Shadowchasers: Dance Macabre
by Metal Overlord 2.0
Summary: When an ancient evil appears to prey upon a small village in Europe, a hero shall emerge from the darkness to do battle, but at what cost? Revised, rebuilt and resubmitted!
1. PsychoPuppet

Shadowchasers: Dance Macabre

By Metal Overlord 2.0

I can imagine more then a few people are confused by the republishing of my first chapter in my spin off of Cyber Commander's mythos so before we begin I want to make sure everyone understand my reasons. While I appreciate the passionate defense of several of my reviewers in favor of my writing thus far, in all honesty none of the criticisms given were anything I hadn't already suspected.

I posted that first attempt despite it being a rough draft, confident (perhaps arrogant even) in my assumption that I had already achieved fanfiction perfection, and simply had to sit back and wait for the wave of unanimous praise. The resulting deeply divided feedback was, in some sense, exactly the splash of cold water needed to remind me how long it's been since I've seriously attempted any sort of writing. In particular, despite receiving it with a fair degree of immaturity, I would like to thank Scarlet Weatherman for being the first to point out the biggest issue I had: the chapter was too short. However I also extend profound gratitude to my dear friend MichaelDJ, who I can happily count as being among those of you who have assured me that my return to writing is a task worth pursuing. So, after some consideration you now see my second, far more thought out, attempt at beginning my new story.

To fans of Punch Kick and Scratch I promise they will still play a role in the story, but for the sake of making it feel closer to my original vision of a classic gothic horror tale, I have juiced up the premier antagonist to something that, if I play my cards right, can be considered a successful example of nightmare fuel. Thank you everyone whose reviewed thus far, but I want to establish for future reference that I do not wish to have a civil war break out over my reviews between the pro and con contributing reviewers, to grow I must have both sides of the audience, so lets all play nice okay? Again I do not own 'Shadowchasers' or 'Yu-Gi-Oh' and should I decide to use Turbo Dueling, the effect of Speed World will be explained in time. Welcome to Shadowchasers: Dance Macabre, take two!

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. Back and forth the pendulum swung, never stopping as it sliced away at the lives of every man, woman and child in the village. Without pause, without hesitation, without mercy, from the great clock tower looming up from the center of the town to the smallest pocket watch, everywhere they continued their endless warnings against certain, inevitable annihilation.

In the home of Richard Flaversham, the wealthy mayor of the village of Gallowmere, the clocks seemed louder then normal. In the bedroom of his beloved daughter Alice, the ancient but well cared for grandfather clock on the far wall seemed to shudder with every click and whir of its hidden mechanisms, as though dreading the nameless presence that now lurked in the house. In the bathroom down the upstairs hall, the ornate bath tub gave a muffled groan, as the pipes below bent, bucked and heaved being pushed out from within.

The bath tub's grate rattled, before something below gently nudged it out of the hole. A nest of wriggling strips of cloth appeared first before fanning out into a hand, which slowly felt its way up the lip of the tub. The drain shook and rattled again as a second hand emerged, and when both of them now had a grip, they tensed as their owner began to slither up from the impossibly narrow drain with the boneless ease of an octopus. Its incredibly thin form was covered in patterns of stitches, and as it squeezed up through the grate, the strain caused them loosen and drip, until by the time the thing had slid up from the drain, the tub was half an inch full…of blood.

Its face, decorated by two large black buttons for eyes, and a small zippered mouth set in a frown, looked left, then right before emerging from the tub. With an unsteady lanky gait it crept out of the bathroom and inched its way down the hallway, its feet trailing long smears of blood like the path of an injured snail. With senses wholly unrelated with sight, it sensed the one it sought was near, before a soft sigh drew its attention to the last door down the hall on the right.

It paused before the door to Alice's room, staring vacantly at the rusty hinges to the door, which would be sure to wake girl, her father and the staff serving them to its presence. Taking its hand it pressed its stained red palm against the hinges and began to rub up and down the door frame, until the ancient metal was coated in blood. As the young girl turned in her bed, the door to her room opened with almost glacial slowness, budging no more then a quarter of an inch every minute, before with almost as much time the thing poked its head into the dark chamber.

Alice's bed was but a few feet away, the back of the headrest facing a large window through which the full moon was in full view hanging above the village clock tower. The thing's mouth seemed to curl into a gentle smile as it began to tip toe towards the young woman, her long blond hair framing her delicate face which seemed to glow in the moonlight. Now the creature was so close, it could almost…

BONNNNNGGGGGGG!

BONNNNNGGGGGGG!

BONNNNNGGGGGGG!

The rag man flinched with every strike of the clock tower as if it was being physically struck. As the midnight toll echoed through the village a strange sudden gust of wind began to flutter through the open window making Alice suddenly turned over stirring slightly from the sound. Trembling in fear, the rag man reached for something deep inside its chest, it pressed a palm against where its heart would be, a soft click followed by the gentle tune of a nursery song. The music seemed to have a soothing effect on Alice, making her smile and murmur something before falling back into a deep sleep.

The creature seemed to sag in relief, its smile returning as it reached out and gently stroked Alice's head, the tender motion marred by the sticky trail of blood it left down the side of her face. As it stroked her, its smile began to widen…and widen…and widen. The zipper at the end of its mouth began to tremble and slide to the left, and as it did so more blood trickled out from the hole that emerged from its mouth, little more then a deep black pit with jagged metal teeth. The lullaby's tone began to distort and speed up, as the thing slowly bent down as one would to kiss a lover, its mouth drooling blood as it's jaws cracked wide enough to swallow Alice whole!

CRUNCH! Out of nowhere, an antique rocking chair flew forward ramming it violently down the rag man's enlarged throat, its jaws working in silent convulsions as it gagged on the unexpected meal. From the other side of the room, hidden by shadows, the moon briefly reflected off the gleam of a sword and a pair of red glasses, before a figure lunged out towards the choking horror the blade rose to sever its head in one swift stroke.

With a silent scream of rage, the rag man's freakishly large jaws bit down on the chair splintering it to pieces and swallowing the remains whole. It twisted its form, leaning back to avoid the swipe its back bent at an angle that would have snapped the spine of a normal human. Shifting its weight onto its hands the rag man's feet shuddered before five curved blades tore through the rags in place of toes. Moving with frightening speed on its hands the rag man charged lashing out with its feet its claws meeting the figure's blade in a flurry of sparks.

Though successfully blocking most of them one of the rag man's jabs forced its assailant to take a quick sidestep into the part of the room illuminated by the light of the moon, revealing him to be a young man who looked not much older then Alice. His skin was so deathly pale it was almost translucent, and he was wearing jet black evening wear with a vest and tie covered by a coat. The ends of which fluttered in the evening breeze like the wings of a bat. With one hand holding up his sword, the young man reached up and adjusted his small glasses, a finger brushing against the small jagged marking on his cheek. "Ms. Flaversham's a little too old to be playing with dolls anymore, but if your that lonely, I'd be delighted to-"

"Unhh…"

Both the young man and the grotesque rag man stopped dead at the sound of Alice stirring. Roused at last by the sound of the battle, she rubbed at her eyes as she sat up…only to freeze at the tableau in front of her. A trail of blood, leading to her bed and staining her sheets and evening gown, an emaciated figure covered in stitches with fangs like broken glass, and a man holding a sword. Said man was looking at Alice his emerald eyes now three times their normal size.

"I know how bad this looks madam but its only going to get FAR worse if you-"

Alice screamed at the top of her lungs the sound cutting through the night like a razor blade. Before the man could even say 'scream' a great commotion was heard out in the hall, a series of heavy steps thundering towards the bedroom door before it burst open. Standing in the open doorway was a man no taller then five and a half feet, whose portly figure combined with a bushy mustache made him look vaguely like a walrus in embroidered pajamas.

But the look of infinite rage spurred by the threat to one's young, combined with the double barreled shotgun in his hands was nothing to laugh at, neither were the half dozen men and women who were assumed to be among the family staff, all of which were armed with pots, pans, kitchen knives and whatever else they had been able to grab. His gaze swept the room, and with the rag doll suddenly out of sight, focused his undivided attention on her attempted savior. "GET YOUR BLOODY HANDS OFF OF MY DAUGHTER YOU BASTARD!" He roared bringing up the barrel of his weapon.

"Sir please you don't seem to understand, I'm trying to help-ACK!" The man suddenly dove to the side as Alice's father opened fire, the shot barely missing its target and instead blowing the full body mirror hanging from her closet door to slivers of polished glass.

"Oh I know EXACTLY what you're trying to 'help' yourself to you fiend. I've seen the stories on the tellie, no midnight prowler's going to deflower my daughter!" Richard growled turning his back to Alice to wait for the man to pop up his head, and in doing so give him the perfect target.

"Well at least he's a dedicated father." The man muttered under his breath, picking up a piece of the broken mirror, he inched it around the corner of the door to try and see an opportunity to get that gun away from Alice's overprotective father (though he had to admit the circumstances didn't paint him in a very good light). What he saw instead made him risk getting shot by Richard as he rushed around the makeshift barrier of the door frame. "Ms. Flaversham, Alice, RUN!"

Alice, still watching all of this unfold in a state of shock, blinked as she felt something warm and moist drip onto her cheek, which as she wiped it away with her sleeve, turned out to be blood. Looking up she opened her mouth to scream at the sight of the rag doll, now dangling upside down from the chamber's ceiling, unhinge its slobbering jaws before it lunged down and swallowed the poor girl all the way down to her hips its mouth making hideously energetic sucking sounds.

"What in heaven's name?" Richard turned around to face this new danger, only to watch in horrified astonishment as the rag doll tilted back its head wolfing down more of Alice's body, her legs kicking from its mouth the rest of her struggling figure making its body distend hideously, before with one last gurgling slurp it swallowed her legs as well, the creature's zipper mouth closing as it rubbed its belly, smiling like a child who had just been given a yummy treat.

There was a moment of dead silence, everyone save the man who had tried to warn Alice frozen in place as their minds raced to find a rational explanation for what had just happened. Then with a wordless roar Richard swung up his weapon aiming straight at the creature's chest.

"NO!" The man in black shoved Richard hard just as he pulled the trigger the shot going wide and blowing a hole in the wall. With both men distracted, the rag man turned and leapt out the window falling twelve feet below onto the cobblestone road before landing with a loud greasy splat, taking off down the street as fast as it could go.

Swearing under his breath the young man poked his head out the window in time to see the rag man disappear down an alleyway. Turning back to Alice's poor father and the bewildered staff he babbled an apology along the lines of. "SoverysorrynotimetoexplainI'llpayforthedamageslater THANK YOU!" Then without another word he climbed out the window and chased after the fleeing rag man along the roof tops.

Fortunately its recent meal seemed to slow the thing's movements enough that, with the help of the trails of bloody footprints it left in its wake, the man was able to keep up with the rag man, until finally the creature made a wrong turn and found itself trapped in a dead end alley, and with Alice still squirming inside its gullet there was no way for it to squeeze through any cracks or small openings.

"Nowhere to run," The man said walking towards the cornered creature as he drew his sword. "As I said before Ms. Flaversham is too old to be playing with dolls, particularly the kind that bleed and swallow people whole. Now regurgitate her or so help me I'll gut you like a trout and pull her out myself."

The rag man quivered as if in fright, before suddenly its mouth unzipped into a disgustingly wide leer, its hands sprouted long rusty metal claws, but instead of charging at its enemy, the creature held them to its midsection making a motion as if to stab itself.

The man stopped the unspoken warning quite clear. "Clever, as long as she's inside you, she makes the perfect hostage. However," He gave the rag man a cold stare. "I happen to know that your living on borrowed time, how long before the spell that gave you this life wears off hmm? An hour? Maybe two? I'm more then willing to wait, especially since the girl's father is likely calling in every policeman in the area."

The rag man rocked back and forth on its heels as if mulling this over. Then it reached up to its right arm and, with a wet tearing noise, began to cut through the stick covered cloth that served as its 'skin'. Unfolding from within its form was a blood stained spindly metal duel disk with sharp needle like spokes and a deck already loaded into the slot.

The man grimaced at the display but nodded producing a jet black duel disk of his own. "So you'd prefer to take a chance and engage me according to the Fair Fight clause? Fair enough, but know this demon: be it as a Shadowchaser, or a gentleman, I Voltaire Amore will not allow you to prey on anymore innocents!" He proclaimed, a gust of wind sending his coat billowing around him. As one their devices activated each duelist drawing five cards from their decks.

"LETS DUEL!"

VOLTAIRE: 8000 LP RAG MAN: 8000 LP

The rag man took the first move, drawing another card as it scanned the contents of its opening hand before its button eyes were drawn to one card in particular. Giving the same small smile it had worn after eating Alice it took a card from its hand and set it on the tray. With a squeak a tiny monster with bat wings, a thin blue tail and a single glaring eye flew out of the darkness circling its owner (800/400).

Voltaire blinked at the sight of the monster. '_Meda Bat? Odd, that card rarely saw use even when it was brand new save for possible fodder for the Crush Card Virus, what is this thing up to?'_

The rag man then took two more cards and set them facedown, before looking expectantly at the Shadowchaser for him to take his turn.

"Much obliged, I'll start with the spell card Dark Shuffle. Now I can select any five Dark attribute monsters I possess and place them in any order on top of my deck," He explained as his deck was shuffled automatically. "Next I summon King of the Skull Servants!" From the ground in front of Voltaire emerged a skeleton clad in a tattered purple cloak standing atop a pile of identical skeletons. (?/0)

"Its attack score may start as indeterminate, but with my next card it will soon eclipse anything you could hope to summon! I play the spell card Take Over Five!" Voltaire took the top five cards from his deck, three Lady in Wights, and two Skull Servants, and sent them to the discard pile. The skeletal ruler suddenly howled in glee as a swarm of spirits emerged from the bones and began to infuse it with their power. (?-5000/0).

After a moment's pause Voltaire thrust his hand forward. "King of Skull Servants crush the Meda Bat!" The ghoulish monarch cackled as it lunged forward and made a downward slash with its hand splitting the tiny fiend in half the rag man tilting its head to one side as its life points dropped sharply.

Then with a fanged leer the rag man pressed a button on its duel disk, one of its facedown cards emerged and began to expel a strange black mist over the area, hiding everything from view. When it faded Voltaire was shocked to see that not only was Meda Bat back on the field, but two more had joined it (800/400X3).

"How…" Then the Shadowchaser noticed the two facedown cards were now active and grimaced. '_Damn, he used Mirage Ruler to negate the battle damage and bring back Meda Bat, and then chained it to The League of Uniform Nomenclature when I had used my attack for this turn, and all it cost that thing was one thousand life points for Mirage Ruler's effect! _

Looking at the remainder of his hand, Voltaire sighed and set one card facedown and waved for the rag man to take his turn.

VOLTAIRE: 8000 LP RAG MAN: 7000 LP

When the creature saw what it had just drawn it did a little dance of joy, shedding droplets of blood all over the alley before playing two spell cards.

"Delta Attacker and, Thousand Energy? Oh damn…" Voltaire took a step back as all three fiends began to crackle with energy. (800+1000=1800/400X3)

The three Meda Bats rose up and assumed a triangular formation before each one fired a laser from their eyes which met in the middle before producing a MUCH larger blast that bored right through Voltaire's chest with the power of a gunshot. Spittle flew from the Shadowchasers' mouth as he clutched his chest where the beam had hit him.

The rag man put a hand to its mouth as it trying to stifle a giggle before it played another spell card, this one showing a Goblin of Greed handing an Ojama Yellow by his eye stalks to a Magical Merchant who was handing him a bag of gold coins. The three Meda Bats vanished as the rag man drew three more cards giving it a total of four. To complete its turn, it set one card and summoned a pale skinned wraith with three glowing red eyes whose body was half hidden in shadow (1200/800)

VOLTAIRE: 2600 LP RAG MAN: 6000 LP

Voltaire wiped his mouth drawing a card as he looked over his enemy's field. _'First Meda Bat, now Dark King of the Abyss? This creature's strategy seems to focus on swarming the field with low level Dark attribute monsters, and then use powerful spell and trap support to take advantage of having multiple monsters in play. If I could draw one of my spell/trap removing cards, I could break through its defenses, but for now all I can do is keep forcing it to pay for Mirage Ruler's cost.'_

"First, since it's the standby phase after I played Take Over Five, I can remove it from my graveyard to draw one more card." Voltaire explained pocketing the spell card and drawing once more, giving him four cards. He saw the card he had just drawn and paused, glancing from it to the rag man's facedown. _'I wonder…'_

"Impressive though my king may be, he's not much without a castle, so I'll summon his domain, the Soul Absorbing Bone Tower!" Voltaire exclaimed. The ground around them began to shake, slightly at first but then more violently, before with a great roar a colossal spire burst up through the street, climbing higher and higher before it dwarfed even the village clock tower! Layer upon layer of wailing, cackling skulls made the foundation of the spire as it swayed precariously from side to side as if ready to collapse at a moment's notice (400/1500).

"King of the Skull Servants attack Dark King of the Abyss!" He commanded thrusting a hand forward. This time the fallen ruler lifted a hand drawing the spirits of the Bone Tower to its side, before forming them into a pulsing sphere of pale blue ectoplasm. With a shrill cackle the ruler of Skull Servants hurled the sphere at the Dark King, who called forth a similar sphere of dark energy the two projectile meeting in mid-air. Monarch struggled against monarch as each one tried to overpower the other, but there was far too much of a difference in strength, as the sphere of ectoplasm pierced through the Dark King's attack incinerating him with a howl.

The rag man's zipper mouth drooped into a pout before it gave a bloody raspberry. As it had before the face up Mirage Ruler began to expel dark mist covering the field. The animated rag doll gave a silent giggle of glee as, when the smoke faded; two more Dark Kings of the Abyss had appeared to join the first one, thanks to its facedown Inferno Reckless Summon. Then, out of the darkness still surrounding Voltaire's side of the field, a giggling wraith swooped out and snatched the top two cards, a Claw Reacher and Phalanx Pike, from the top of the rag man's deck.

The rag man bared its fangs in a silent hiss and gave a curiously nimble leap up reaching for its stolen cards, but the mischievous spirit simply swooped around it and stuffed the cards into the discard slot in its disk. The sound of Voltaire's voice brought its attention back to his field, where there were now THREE Bone Towers, standing in three positions around the Shadowchaser and his King of Skull Servants.

"I was wondering if you were going to try and swarm the field again in combination with Mirage Ruler, and seeing as how Dark King is level three it's incompatible with the requirement for the League of Uniform Nomenclature. So Inferno Reckless Summon seemed the most logical alternative. Thus I made sure to summon a monster weak enough to give me the same benefit, and as a bonus it's allowed me to assemble the second strategy behind my deck, a little something I like to call the Bone Palace Mill."

"On their own, Soul Absorbing Bone Towers can only discard two cards from an opponent's deck whenever a zombie type monster is special summoned, but with three assembled, the cost now grows to a total of SIX. Which means that, assuming your deck started at the forty card limit, I only need to special summon four more times to deplete your deck. Be it through the might of my King or the unbreakable defense of these towers, I WILL defeat you, and I WILL return Alice Flaversham to her father! Now make your move demon, your life shall end, either at the hands of time…or my own." He said giving the rag man a terribly cold glare.

The creature bowed its head and started to tremble, and for a moment it almost looked like it was going to curl up and cry, like a lost child pining for its mother. Then, with a violent tearing sound its mouth ripped open blood leaking down from its fangs as its mouth opened impossibly wide, arching back its head as it tried to scream without a voice, a muted shriek that, though completely lacking in sound, conveyed a terrible fury through the violent contortions of its body.

As Voltaire watched it all but tore the top card off of its deck, before immediately slamming a spell card into its disk which Voltaire, though having never actually seeing it, had heard rumors about its terrible unbalanced power. "Negative Energy Generator…good lord it really _does _exist." Voltaire breathed as the middle Dark King of the Abyss began to laugh at the top of his lungs as he began swelling in size until he towered well above every other monster on the field, save for the three Bone Towers (1200X3=3600/800).

But the rag man's rage was not fully spent, not yet. A second spell card appeared, ominously titled 'The Sword of the Soul-Eater'. In front of the powered up Dark King, a wicked looking blade emerged from the ground with a serrated edge like a saw and a finish that gleamed like polished obsidian. With a bony hand the Dark King reached out and pulled it free of its resting place admiring his reflection in the sword's surface.

Then, as Voltaire watched, an inverted eye cracked open from its place in the sword's handle glowing with a purplish hue. The Dark King's eyes began to glow the same color, and without warning he turned and cut down one of his siblings, splitting the helpless fiend straight down the middle in a spray of black ichor! The black blood began to quiver and flow from the monster's corpse and into the sword, the aura around the Dark King becoming even stronger. Now howling with mad glee he cut down the remaining Dark King, licking the gore off the surface of the sword as his strength grew to a level beyond even the Five God Dragon (3600+1000+1000=5600/800).

The rag man sneered and pointed at the Shadowchaser's King of Skull Servants. Eager for a change for revenge the Dark King, or perhaps Dark Emperor would be more fitting, flew up in an arc trailing the Sword of the Soul-Eater at his side as he prepared to send the resurrected king to the afterlife for the final time. Choosing to face oblivion with pride the King of the Skull Servants jutted out its bony chin in defiance, its expression never changing even as its head flew from the Dark King's decapitating blow. Voltaire lowered his head in sadness at this his eyes hidden from view.

The rag man hissed in triumph at the fall of Voltaire's only offensive force so far in the duel…only to stop and stare as the beheaded zombie got back up and plucked a replacement skull from the bones beneath it and twisted it into place with a few loud pops and cracks (5000-1000=4000/0). The sound of Voltaire laughing drew the rag man's attention back to him. "You didn't think it was THAT easy to kill one of my strongest monsters did you? When King of the Skull Servants is destroyed in battle I can remove a Skull Servant or another King of Skull Servants from my graveyard to bring it back to the field, which means that now my three Bone Towers awaken!"

From each of the spires of the dead a swarm of ghosts fell upon the rag man snatching six cards off the top of its deck, all of which were stuffed into the discard slot. The rag man's jaws snapped open and shut furiously, as if longing to sink its teeth into the Shadowchaser's flesh. Finally, seeing nothing else it could do with the one card remaining in its hand, it jabbed a claw at Voltaire indicating his turn was now starting.

VOLTAIRE: 2000 LP RAG MAN: 6000 LP

Voltaire drew his next card, with the four in his hand he could see the beginning of a strategy that could very well lead him out of this mess, but he was missing a critical card. With a sigh he switched King of the Skull Servants to defense mode and set a monster on the only remaining space on his field, the skeletal ruler folding its arms and sitting down rather then kneel. "I end my turn."

The rag man tilted its head at him before drawing. From its hand the spell card Arms Hole appeared, the top card, which had the corner symbol indicating it as a ritual spell, was quickly ejected from the top of the creature's deck before it took an equip card from its graveyard. It looked from Voltaire's facedown monster, then back to the King of Skull Servants in defense mode before it pointed at the former, apparently not seeing the new weaker monarch as a threat.

Though clearly disappointed in being denied another crack at its rival, the Dark King complied severing the hidden monster in two, which was revealed to be the last of Voltaire's Skull Servants just before it shattered. From his seat the King snarled a warning as the demise of its subject bolstered its strength back to its former level (4000+1000=5000/0). The rag doll rocked back and forth on its heels becoming more and more impatient before it simply jerked its head to the Shadowchaser to take his turn.

Voltaire gave his foe a suspicious look as he drew. He had seen the image of the spell the rag man had retrieved with Arms Hole, and it had definitely NOT been Phalanx Pike, in fact so far the creature had yet to play a single card that was compatible with the requirements of what it had just retrieved. Was its Dark King fueled by the Negative Energy Generator/Sword of the Soul Eater combo really the worst its deck could produce?

He couldn't be sure, but thanks to the card he had just drawn Voltaire had a chance to bring this terrible night to an end. "Its time to show you the full power of my Bone Palace Mill strategy, and it begins with this card, Sanctity of the Netherworld!" The King of the Skull Servant tilted back its head and sighed before from its form emerged a ghostly apparition, who shockingly enough appeared to resemble the Dark King of the Abyss, were the two perhaps one and the same? Either way the spirit dispersed over Voltaire's side of the field as glowing motes of light circled around him and his monsters.

"Veil of the Netherworld's power requires me to tribute a face up zombie type monster I control, but then until the end phase of this turn the damage either of us would take involving zombie monsters is reduced to zero. I now summon the final piece of my strategy, my Pyramid Turtle!" Voltaire said holding onto his hat as a sudden sandstorm began to blow around the field, with a deep groan an enormous turtle lumbered onto the field with an entire pyramid on the back of its shell, an ornate headdress on top of its head as it stared unblinkingly at the rag man's monster (1200/1400).

"Pyramid Turtle, attack Dark King of the Abyss!" Voltaire commanded. The great beast charged (well, as much as even a building sized turtle can charge) towards its enemy, which sneered before swinging his sword creating a sickle of dark matter that lopped the beast's head off. However before the Dark King could celebrate the turtle suddenly dissolved into sand, which reformed into an identical looking turtle. At the same time the three Bone Towers glowed and summoned the horde of card snatching spirits stealing six more cards from the rag man's deck despite its best efforts to stop them.

"Whenever Pyramid Turtle is destroyed in battle, I can special summon any zombie from my deck whose defense is equal to or less then two thousand, and I happen to have two more! Pyramid Turtle number two, attack!" Again the enormous beast was cut down by the Dark King's sword, and just as it had the first time its body dissolved into sand reforming as the third and final Pyramid Turtle. The rag man's expression, though almost impossible to read, began to suggest panic, as six more cards were taken from its disk.

"Pyramid Turtle number three!" Attack, defeat, rebirth, and discard, the cycle carried through without flaw, but this time what emerged from the sand storm left behind by the turtle's death was none other then Voltaire's final King of the Skull Servants, the presence of its predecessor giving it just enough power to bring the Dark King's murderous rampage to a halt.

"Its time to finish what my Pyramid Turtles started," The Shadowchaser said in a low voice before he thrust out his hand and bellowed. "King of the Skull Servants, bring the Dark King's reign to an end!" Needing no further motivation the king drew the power of its fallen vassals into its being before it raised up its arms mounds upon mounds of bones rising up into the air. With a sneer the King of the Skull Servants thrust its arms out as the bones suddenly shot forward like shrapnel, and though the Dark King tried desperately to fend them off with great swings of his blade, they broke through and impaled him. The once terrible fiend swayed slightly, run through like a stuck pig before he collapsed in a mangled heap, gone at last.

"And thanks to the second effect of Sanctity of the Netherworld, neither player can special summon monsters from their graveyard for this turn, so even with your Mirage Ruler, the Dark King is STAYING gone, it looks like this duel is just about over, I may not have depleted your entire deck, but it seems your down to your last card. Make your move or forfeit, either way this ends here." Voltaire said setting a card from his hand and crossing his arms over his chest, waiting to see what his opponent would do.

The rag man was truly frantic now; it was shaking like a leaf shedding blood in every direction as it desperately yanked the last card from the now empty deck slot. But when it saw what it had drawn, its mouth burst open in silent shrieking laughter. Almost bending the card in the process the creature played Preparation of Rites, taking the ritual spell card (the same one it had discarded with Arms Hole).

The next card it played came as a real surprise to Voltaire, instead of a monster appearing on the rag man's side of the field, a monster appeared on _his_. It was a colossal golem made of riveted plates of steel with a whirling buzz-saw for a head and clamps for hands (3000/300). With the monster's summoning two much smaller version appeared on the rag man's field (0/0).

It wasn't until the rag man played the ritual card it had retrieved with Preparation with Rites that this bizarre strategy came into clarity, and it did not bode well for Voltaire at all. A brazier emblazoned with the image of the Eye of Wdjat appeared beneath one of the Grinder Tokens a pillar of purple flames rising up and consuming it whole. What emerged from the flames was a creature whose existence had been one of Yugi Mutou's darkest secrets. A lanky, bone covered horror that perched on a floating spire with fleshy gray wings, long bladelike talons, and an elongated neck, upon which rested a head with no other feature then a pulsing green eye. Relinquished, the monster created for the sole purpose of defeating the King of Games, lived again (0/0).

The hole in the monster's chest opened as it called upon the powers that had made its successor, Destiny Hero Bloo-D, such a terrible foe. Grinder Golem was slowly dragged forward unable to control the movements of its own body before, in a manner frighteningly similar to how the rag man had swallowed Alice, Relinquished absorbed the golem whole, its body shuddering and pulsing as it fed upon the newfound energy (0-3000/0). Finally the rag man fitted its new monster with what it had retrieved with Arms Hole: Opti-Camouflage Armor.

The rag man, still grinning at Voltaire, dragged its hand across its neck before Relinquished began to glow with power, its eye growing with increasingly bright light before letting loose all of the power it had assimilated from Grinder Golem into a single direct attack with enough power behind it to knock the Shadowchaser clear out of the fight!

Voltaire lowered his head and sighed as the blast came streaking towards him. "As I said before, this ends NOW!" His eyes snapped wide open as his facedown card lifted face up. "I play Malevolent Catastrophe! Now all spell and trap cards on the field are destroyed!" As the rag man's face contorted in another silent scream a whirlwind tore through the field destroying the Opti-Camouflage Armor, Mirage Ruler, and the equipped Grinder Golem. Without its power source the attack made by Relinquished dwindled and faded before it could touch Voltaire, leaving the rag man's field clear of all but its now helpless ritual monster.

Voltaire drew the last card of the duel, not even bothering to look at it as he glared over his glasses at the rag man. "Your last stand has failed, your defenses are shattered, and now with the power given to it by the vassals who continue to serve it even in death, my King will attack you directly, and end this duel once, and, for, ALL!" The King of the Skull Servants did not bother with a dramatic attack this time, it simply charged forward and sliced Relinquished into three pieces with its bony claws, yet the end result was still the same, the rag man falling to its knees as its life points drained to zero.

VOLTAIRE: 2000 LP RAG MAN: 0 LP

Both their duel disks powered down as Voltaire began to slowly walk towards the rag man who was still kneeling on the ground. "Its over, now surrender and spit out Ms. Flaversham," He added looking down at the creature his eyes narrowed. "That is, if she's still inside you."

The rag man sat motionless for a moment, before suddenly leaping up at Voltaire long steels claws and spikes erupting from every part of its body its mouth hung open in a final voiceless roar. The Shadowchaser drew his sword and swung at the same instant before, a heart beat later he was now standing behind the rag man who was frozen in place. "I don't like taking lives," He said slowly sliding his sword back into it's sheathe. "But in this case, I do so out of pity…farewell." He slid the last of the blade with a snap.

The rag man's entire body suddenly split straight down the front blood pouring in a grisly deluge that drenched the alleyway scarlet. Still gushing from the massive wound the rag man flailed wildly its mouth hung open as it screamed in pain, slowly collapsing in a mangled heap its convulsions growing weaker and weaker until finally, like a ghastly blood filled balloon that had just been poked with a needle, it deflated into a pile of inert bloody rags, without so much as a sound.

Voltaire watched his expression cold as ice behind his glasses, barely even flinching at the shallow cut on his shoulder, a final parting wound from his fallen foe. When he was certain the rag man was no longer of this world, he knelt down and, without hesitation reached into the bloody rags already knowing what he would, or rather, would _not _find. No scrap of clothing, no stray lock of hair, nothing to suggest Alice had ever been inside the rag man's stomach. The only thing he did find was a small black six sided cube made of polished stone, with a pentagram carved into each side. He stared at it his expression as stoic as the sphinx, knowing exactly what it was, and what it meant for Alice's fate.

"There he is! GET HIM!"

Turning his head to see who was talking Voltaire's eyes tripled in size as he had just enough time to get a good look at the police issue Billy club being swung at his head. There was a moment of almost blinding pain, and then blackness overtook him. The last coherent thought Voltaire had for a while, was what a thankless job it was being a hero…

I think it's safe to say no other 'Shadowchasers' chapter has ever ended quite like THAT eh? There you have it boys and girls, take two of the first chapter of 'Dance Macabre'. I hope I was able to carry out the duel with more initial success then the original dialogue leading up to it. To Cyber Commander I'm sorry if I gave you a heart attack with the use of Mirage Ruler AND Negative Energy Generator in one chapter, but the former turned out to have such beautiful synergy with the rest of the rag man's deck and Negative Energy Generator…well okay I wanted to say I was the first person to use that card since Seto Kaiba played it in the first duel of the original show, so sue me LOL

One way or another I feel like this time I really put more effort into this chapter, so while I'd love to hear that it turned out a success, I'm a bit more prepared for both negative and positive feedback. To those of you not used to my unique detail rampant style of writing duels do yourself a favor and give my other Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction a look see, you'll have a better idea what your in for as the rest of the story unfolds. Speaking of which next time we see the very unpleasant side effect of being a Shadowchaser as Voltaire tries to explain himself to the local police, all the while Alice Flaversham finds herself at the mercy of a lovelorn madman. Please read and review and until next time, adieu!

SPECIAL CARDS

MEEK PROFIT

Spell Card

Normal Type

Image: A Goblin of Greed handing a Magical Merchant an Ojama Yellow by his eye stalks while being handed a bag of money.

Text: Tribute one face up Normal type monster whose level two or less and draw one card. If there are any copies of that monster on your field you may tribute them as well and draw an equal number of additional cards.

SANCTITY OF THE NETHERWORLD

Spell Card

Quick Play Type

Image: A transparent Vampire Lady standing in front of Vampire Lord protecting him from a sword strike from Getsu Fuhma

Text: Send one face up Zombie type monster you control to the graveyard. Until the end phase of this turn neither player takes battle damage from battles involving Zombie type monsters. Also neither player can special summon monsters from their graveyards.

DARK SHUFFLE

Spell Card

Normal Type

Image: Similar to Card Shuffle, but with a winged demon as the shuffler.

Text: Select five Dark monsters from your deck, shuffle it, and place them on top of your deck in any order. When these cards are drawn they cannot be summoned or set.

('Dark Shuffle' was created by Ruin Queen of Oblivion and used with permission. Thank you for a card I'm sure well see be used QUITE a few times in this story LOL)

TAKE OVER 5

Spell Card

Normal Type

Image: Five cards flying out of a duelist's deck.

Text: Send the top five cards from your deck to your graveyard. During your next standby phase, if this card is in your graveyard, by removing it from play, you can draw one card. While this card is in your graveyard negate the effect(s) of cards you control that send cards from your deck to the graveyard.

(This card was used by Jaden Yuki in Yu-Gi-Oh GX Episode 167. All credit goes to the maker of the show)

MIRAGE RULER

Trap Card

Continuous Type*

Image: An armored warrior striking a shadowy demon down the middle with a sword.

Text: Activate only if your opponent destroys all face up monster(s) you control this turn. Special summon those monsters in their same battle positions, and gain life points equal to any battle damage you took this turn. Then, pay 1000 life points.

(This card was used by Yugi Mutou in the Ceremonal Duel against the Pharaoh in episode 222 of the original show. All creative credit goes to the makers of that episode)

*Though Yugi Wiki has labeled this card a Normal type trap card, in the image of the original card the symbol for a continuous effect is clearly seen. Thus for the purpose of this duel I have treated it as a continuous trap card, as CC has said before its best to take that site's information with a grain of salt.

NEGATIVE ENERGY GENERATOR

Spell Card

Normal Type

Image: A black disembodied eye with a yellow iris and black pupil emitting an aura of electricity.

Text: Select one face up Dark attribute monster you control with an attack of 1500 or less. Triple its original attack for as long as its face up on the field.

(This card was used by Seto Kaiba in the very first episode of the original Yu-Gi-Oh series 'Heart of the Cards'. All creative credit goes to the makers of that episode)

SPECIAL NOTE: I'd like to apologize in case anyone (especially Cyber Commander) feels that the last two cards mentioned were too powerful to be used. One of my biggest pet peeves about stories like these is that the whole point of writing Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction is to have fun, for me that's using cards that will likely never see the light of day in the real world. Also, despite their immense power neither Mirage Ruler or Negative Energy Generator have ever been listed as 'illegal' or 'banned' by any official criteria. Thus even if it's just this once, I have dug up these two cards and given them a chance to shine. Okay enough covering my ass, that's the end of the chapter for real this time LOL


	2. Patrician of Darkness

Shadowchasers: Dance Macabre

By Metal Overlord 2.0

Well now, look at what a little attention to detail can do for a story. Thanks to all who have reviewed my story thus far, I can safely say I am far more satisfied with where things are heading now then they were in my first draft. Just so you guys no there will not be any dueling in this chapter, but I felt it was more important to further establish the story's direction and the rest of the primary cast. Rest assured there will be plenty of Duel Monsters action, with a gothic twist thrown in at every possible chance, to keep everybody satisfied. That said? Lets get this started!

SPLASH! Voltaire sat up coughing and sputtering as the ice cold water dumped on him forced everything to lurch painfully into focus. As his head throbbed from where he had been hit in the face with a police club he tried to see through the haze around him. Slowly the interior of a prison cell, likely somewhere in the Gallowmere police station, appeared around him, as did the officer standing over him who had just dumped the contents of his bucket onto the unconscious Shadowchaser.

"About time you woke up you creepy little bugger," The officer said helping Voltaire unsteadily to his feet. "The inspector wants to have a word with you and he is _not _a patient man."

"Then perhaps you should help me get to him before I die of hypothermia." Voltaire said giving the man a half hearted glare from behind his glasses, which now had a crack in the left lens. He didn't even need to look to know that his sword and duel disk had been confiscated (the latter was actually justified since your standard model has enough weight behind it to crack a man's skull if you swung it hard enough).

"Oh a wise guy eh? Well you better use those smarts to come up with a good reason why we found you in the bedroom of Flaversham's daughter or your going to spend a lot more time in that cell when your charged with breaking and entering. The devil is this world coming to these days? A man can't even sleep soundly in his own home without people like you breaking in like they own the place."

After that Voltaire's escort wasn't much for small talk, he showed him to the interrogation room which was empty save for two chairs in the room seated on opposite sides of a battered wooden table. The chair closest to the wall was currently occupied by a man who looked to be in his late forties, early fifties perhaps. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and dark brown hair which curled down over his right eye. His left eye, a pale blue in color, locked with Voltaire's and narrowed. Like a sheep dog that had just spotted a wolf he kept his eye solely on the Shadowchaser even after he was seated.

After a few seconds of silence the man waved a bony hand dismissively to the officer who had escorted Voltaire from his cell. "Officer Winston, if you'd be so kind as to allow me to question our…_guest_, in private perhaps we can get to the bottom of this." He said in a gruff voice.

Winston seemed uncertain of this however. "Begging your pardon inspector Lestrad, but perhaps it would be better if I-"

Inspector Lestrad glanced at the officer. "I said 'in private' Winston, if I need anything I'll let you know." Just like that the matter was dropped; Winston nodded his head, gave one last parting look at Voltaire, and closed the door behind him. The inspector brought up his hands and folded them as he gave the Shadowchaser a scrutinizing look.

"I'm going to tell you something right off the bat: Richard Flaversham's calling for you to be lynched unless you explain where his daughter is. Considering how that girl was practically raised by this entire town, once the rest of Gallowmere finds out what happened they'll fall in with him in a heartbeat. So if you want to give me any reason whatsoever to not simply leave you in the hands of the angry mob that will be here by morning you'd better start talking, _now_."

Voltaire sat back in his chair taking off his glasses and setting them down in front of him while he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "And if what I have to say sounds completely ludicrous? What if you refuse to believe it, even if I'm willing to stake my life on my reasons for being here tonight?"

The inspector's eyebrow rose slightly. "Well cross that bridge when we get there. Even if its complete rubbish I'd prefer any attempt at an explanation over an outright denial of being involved. We have witnesses, not only Richard but his entire staff, who saw you with an unidentified man in a costume in a struggle in Alice Flaversham's bedroom. We have reports from neighbors of the sound of gunfire and screaming, and several who saw you chasing the man who kidnapped Alice through town. To top it all off my men found you with the remains of the man you were fighting at Richard's home and holding a sword covered in blood. No matter how you look at it, you're a suspect, plain and simple."

"Don't say I didn't warn you then," Voltaire said closing his eyes as he tried to gather his thoughts. Arguably, this had always been the part of his job he had loathed above all else. "I am a member of the Shadowchasers, an ancient order of supernaturally aware peace-keepers founded by an immortal half dragon named Jalal Stormbringer. Our task is to ensure stability between the race of humanity, and the various species of supernatural creatures called 'Shadow-kind' who live amongst us but are hidden by our own psychological profiling. We operate completely outside any known form of government and engage in conflicts with said hostile supernatural entities either by negotiation, enchanted weaponry, or if the occasion calls for it…"

Voltaire hesitated before finishing with a small grimace. "The use of a children's card game with stakes including but not limited to our willingness to pursue wanted criminals, divulgence of vital intelligence, and in some cases matters of life and death regardless of whether or not an alternative to solve the situation is present."

The silence that followed was so complete that the buzzing of a fly would have sounded like the engine of a jumbo jet. The inspector however, had a poker face professional card sharks would have killed for, and save for the slightest further elevation of his eyebrow his expression betrayed nothing. "Interesting, and the, man you attacked, would he fit under the category of a 'hostile supernatural entity'?"

"Technically, the creature that attacked Alice Flaversham is called a Bandersnatch, named after the creature from Lewis Carroll's poem 'The Hunting of the Snark'. They're non living magical constructs formed when the blood of a human is bound to inanimate objects, most often rags and pieces of cloth. Their threat comes in both their malleable structure, as a Bandersnatch can squeeze through even the smallest openings with proper lubrication, and in their ability to form claws, spikes, fangs and other means of attack using the iron in the blood."

"So, when you found out that this, Bandersnatch, was in the Flaversham manor, your immediate decision was, instead of alerting the local authorities, to break into another man's home without any back up and take matters into your own hands?"

"I was confident that I was the best equipped to handle it at the moment, yes."

"Ah yes, your referring to this?" The inspector held up something, to Voltaire's surprise it was his deck case. "Not exactly the ideal equipment for a secret global task force. Mind if I took a look?" Without waiting for an answer he carefully pulled out Voltaire's deck and thumbed through his cards. "You know I used to be quite a fan of this game myself when I was a lad, granted I never got it into my head to try and fight crime with a handful of trading cards."

"As I understand it, Jalal chose it as the means by which matters could be settled in which neither side would have a clear advantage over the other, a 'fair fight' if you will." Voltaire explained, all the while waiting for the other shoe to drop and for the inspector to decide he was completely out of his mind.

Lestrad gave a scoff at this. "'Fair fight' you say? That's almost as hard to believe as the idea that Richard's daughter was kidnapped by some sock puppet boogieman. If I went to the den of a gang of serial killers, broke down the front door and challenged one of them to a 'fair fight' how well do you think it would go?"

Voltaire mulled this over before deciding that at this point there was little point in trying to put one past this man. "I'd say your chances of getting out alive would be somewhere between slim and none." He admitted.

Something like approval gleamed in the inspector's eye. "I'd have to agree with you. Yet despite the fact that all evidence points to you being a raving lunatic or the single most amateur vigilante I have _ever _heard of on the force, you were able to elude the police, track down a fleeing criminal and, if the evidence supports your story, were able to kill a dangerous non-human entity with outdated weaponry. Actions speak louder then words as it were, and right now your actions tell me that there's something going on here that's outside anything my men are equipped to handle."

Voltaire's headache had slowly begun to subside and right now he was staring at the inspector with a mixture of surprise and amusement. "Your taking all of this in remarkable stride inspector Lestrad, I was already halfway done with a counter argument as to why you shouldn't send me to the nearest asylum. Shame too, it was getting rather good."

The inspector gave a humorless thin lipped smile. "You might still have a need for it when this is all over. But even if you are insane, there's enough common ground between your explanation and what I've gathered from the reports that have been coming in to draw the conclusion that, be it supernatural or mundane, _someone _went to a lot of trouble to kidnap Ms. Flaversham. Furthermore they seem to be willing to resort to highly unconventional methods to achieve their goals."

"So, that being the case, here's what's going to happen: regardless of what happens tonight you're wanted for burglary, trespassing, assault, and disturbing the peace, there's nothing I can do to change the fact that you're going to spend time. However, if you agree to offer your unwavering cooperation in the location and apprehension of the party responsible for tonight's attacks I _might _be obliged to see that you get a reduced sentence. Interested?"

At this point Voltaire had lowered his head a bit, so Lestrad didn't see the small sad smile that crossed his face beneath the shadow of his hat's brim. _If only he knew how little a difference that would make come sunrise _he thought. But before he could answer, there was one more thing the Shadowchaser had to make sure of before he was willing to involve the inspector in what would soon transpire.

"Before I give my answer I do have one last question for you to consider. If I were to tell you that Jalal has contacts powerful enough to ruin both your reputation and your career, and has in fact used this power almost to the point of abusing in the past, would you still be willing to interfere with my work, even if it meant risking everything you care about?" Voltaire asked looking up to catch the inspector's eye.

Lestrad's expression turned as hard as stone. "I've risked life and limb to keep Gallowmere safe ever since I joined the force as a young lad. Being a police officer has been in my family for generations, and not one of us has ever compromised doing their duty, not for bribe nor threat nor pain of death. I don't care if your part of some secret government organization and I don't care if your boss thinks he's the bloody tooth fairy: if he tries to stop me from doing everything in my power to bring Alice Flaversham back to the only living family she has left, he'll wind up either in handcuffs, or with a bullet in his head. Does that answer your question _sir_?" He growled.

Voltaire sat back momentarily taken aback, the incredible thing was the inspector seemed like the kind of man who really would take on Jalal single handed if he felt his duty to the law was at risk. Then, very slowly, a smile crept over his face. _And they say humanity is helpless without us to watch over them? _"That it does inspector that it does. In that case," He stood up slowly as to not cause alarm and extended his hand. "I am at your service until the task at hand is settled; you have my word of honor, if not as a Shadowchaser, then as a gentleman."

Lestrad blinked at this having perhaps expected a different reaction. Finally he stood up himself and, with only the briefest hesitation clasped Voltaire's hand in his own in a firm handshake. "I can't tell whether I'm relieved or embarrassed to hear that," He admitted. "But if were done prattling on the more time we waste here the colder the trail Alice's kidnappers should have left will get."

Voltaire began to nod before he paused; his expression grew blank as something suddenly occurred to him. "Trail…scent…THAT'S IT!" He shouted. "Inspector, show me where my equipment was stored, there's not a moment to waste!" There was a sudden fire in his eyes that was already making Lestrad wonder if this was really a good idea.

A few minutes later Voltaire was in the chamber of the Gallowmere police station where all confiscated materials were kept. He was already reequipping his sword and loading his deck back into his duel disk. However the item he seemed the most interested in was the small onyx cube he had pulled from the rag man's remains. He held it up for inspection muttering something under his breath.

"Would you mind explaining to me what was so bloody urgent you had to turn half of my station upside down to find?" Lestrad said irritably as he tried to put everything back where it had been before the Shadowchaser had tore through the stacked boxes and file cabinets like a black leather clad tornado. The inspector was, if nothing else, very fond of keeping things tidy (for instance making sure criminals stayed exactly where he left them).

"Well that depends, would you prefer the truth, which incidentally makes me sound like a maniac, or the version that tries to make any of this sound normal and ends up with me sounding like an idiot?" Voltaire asked simply.

Lestrad seemed to consider this for a moment before his shoulders sagged a bit. "I'd prefer working with a maniac then an idiot." This was true, as he had seen crazy people perform extraordinary feats of strength, agility and cunning, whereas idiots had maybe one of the above mentioned traits and did most of what little good they accomplished by accident.

"Well then, what we have here is an item we refer to in my line of work as a Warp Stone. They're typically made in pairs of two, with a powerful magical current running between them at all times. Each one is designed so that when they come into contact with a living creature, it triggers an instantaneous shift in location to wherever the other stone is located. In other words, the rag man must have been carrying this around in its gullet so as soon as it swallowed Ms. Flaversham she was transported to wherever the second Warp Stone is currently residing." Voltaire said before pausing to allow the inspector to take this all in.

The inspector gave the Shadowchaser a blank look. "Right, let's focus on the part where if we find the other…rock, we'll find where Alice has been taken, exactly how are we supposed to do that? By the time we check every shop, collector and craftsman in town she could be halfway out of the country for all we know. We need a lead and we need it _now._"

"Then a lead you shall have inspector Lestrad. We simply need to follow the trail the activation of the War Stones left behind," He pocketed the stone and rummaged around for something else. "The trick is, we need to be able to follow that trail despite it being invisible to the naked eye and any mundane methods of detection. Fortunately, we have _this_." With a flourishing motion Voltaire produced a small silver whistle with intricate markings carved into the surface.

"A whistle? How the devil is that going to solve anything?" Lestrad demanded beginning to grow considerably annoyed.

Rather then explain, Voltaire turned and motioned for Lestrad to follow him as he proceeded towards the exit of the station. Confused but not quite ready to take action the inspector followed close behind making sure the Shadowchaser remained in eyesight at all time. Once they were outside Voltaire took a moment to enjoy the cold crisp evening air before turning to Lestrad his expression suddenly quite serious. "A word of advice: don't make any sudden movements until I say otherwise." With that he took the whistle and blew into it with considerable force. Despite the whistle producing failing to make so much as a squeak there was a resounding din as all across Gallowmere every dog began to howl one by one until their cries filled the air.

Suddenly as if from a great distance away there came a distant yet impossibly loud howl, at which every other dog in the village abruptly lapsed into silence. A deep repeating baying began to fill the air heading in their general direction, slowly growing in volume until they weren't so much hearing it as feeling it reverberate through the ground. Lestrad was by no means a coward, but something in the way the windows around them rattled with every howl made him half consciously reach for the revolver tucked into its holster inside his coat. Voltaire quickly picked up on this and shook his head in a silent warning. Bullets wouldn't be any good against what was coming.

Just as it sounded like the source of the din was right on top of them everything went quiet. No enormous shapes burst out of the darkness, no more heavy barking echoed around them, the only thing to suggest something was wrong was how every dog in the village was still silent. Finally Lestrad broke the silence. "What was that all about then? Were you just trying to be funny by waking up half the town with that blasted toy? You better have a good reason fo-"

The inspector went rigid as he felt a gust of hot breath waft over the back of his neck. A second gust came a few seconds later, filling his nostrils with a thick musky scent tinged with the faintest trace of brimstone. Very slowly, Lestrad turned his head to look behind him…and then found himself craning his head _up. _He stood there quietly until he was absolutely sure he wasn't hallucinating. "Oh." He finally said in a slightly strained matter of fact tone. "So you did."

It was a dog, or at the very least was dog-shaped. For some inexplicable reason Lestrad had expected it to have black fur, instead its coat was a thick gun metal gray, which as it happened did absolutely nothing to diminish how nervous it made him to be so close to an animal that, from a distance, had enough mass to be mistaken for a bear. Its eyes were the color of red hot coals, which stared unblinkingly at the much smaller inspector in front of it. There was only a quarter of an inch worth of space between him and a mouth full of teeth likely large enough to double as surgical saws.

It stood there its entire body wound as tightly as a spring with a complete absence of sound and movement that was somehow far worse then if it had simply come barreling around the corner snarling and foaming at the mouth. That would have likely made it seem a great deal less…_professional. _

"Inspector Lestrad, I'd like to introduce you to Baskerville. Baskerville? This is Inspector Lestrad. Well be working with him this evening so I expect you to be on your best behavior." Voltaire said calmly pocketing the whistle.

Baskerville continued to stand there in silence as if not even registering the Shadowchaser's command. Then finally the hound seemed to sense that all was well and began to wag its tail with great enthusiasm. The red hellfire glow in its eyes subsided a little and its tongue lolled out as it slowly seemed to take on a more disarming form.

The inspector rallied admirably as he turned to Voltaire with a supremely agitated glare. "I don't recall you mentioning you owning a dog."

Voltaire's smile was almost ear to ear as he reached up to scratch Baskerville behind the ears making the hound tilt its head to one side so he could reach it more easily. "I don't recall you ever asking if I owned a dog either."

Rather then acknowledge this Lestrad changed tactics. "So…what breed of dog is this then? Cant say I've ever seen its like around these parts before."

"In Baskerville's case inspector, that would be because his natural habitat is a great deal warmer then most dogs are comfortable with. You know the old stories where demons would come from hell in disguise and prey upon hapless mortals resulting in the birth of half demon hybrids?"

"I've heard a legend or two in that nature yes." Lestrad admitted begrudgingly.

Voltaire's grin became a bit crooked. "Well lets just say that some of them weren't as picky about who they take a fancy to. As a result we have Hell Hounds like this great lummox." Voltaire said giving Baskerville's flank an affectionate slap.

The inspector knew he was going to have to try and draw a line somewhere tonight if he was ever going to argue that he wasn't already starting to lose his mind. This seemed as good a time as any to make the attempt. "Now wait one bloody minute. You really expect me to believe that this dog's the result of some unholy union between a canine and a _demon_?"

Voltaire sighed. "Inspector, if you're going to spend all night in denial of every borderline supernatural phenomenon we run into then were never going to get to the bottom of any of this. Now do you want to save Ms. Flaversham or not?"

Lestrad gave him a half hearted glare before he seemed to deflate a little. "Oh bloody hell...fine, so it's a demon dog, how does that help us?"

Voltaire pulled out the Warp Stone and held it out to Baskerville's nostrils. "Hell Hounds have a far more comprehensive sense of smell then any mundane canine. Thanks to the demonic taint in his being Baskerville can track any lingering traces of magical aura or supernatural entities within the area. We just need to get him on the scent. Now, if you would be so kind?"

The great hound's nose twitched as he took a few deep whiffs almost inhaling the small cube with the force of each sniff. Suddenly a look of intense concentration came over Baskerville's face as he began to sniff up and down the street his toenails rasping as they scraped over the cobblestones. He paused in mid sniff, looked down an alleyway and gave a bark before Baskerville took off like a four legged locomotive.

Ha-HAH! He's got the scent!" Voltaire laughed running after the rapidly vanishing hound before turning. "Hurry up inspector! We can't wait around for you forever!" He said with a wild grin.

"The bloody hell you can't!" Lestrad roared chasing after him. "Let me get my men together, we need reinforcements, weapons, search warrants, _something_!"

"No time inspector no time! By the time we convinced the rest of your men why I shouldn't still be behind bars it will already be too late!" Voltaire called back as the three figures vanished into the darkness of the wilderness around Gallowmere, with only the light of the moon as their guide.

_The blood soaked walls of cotton pressed in on her from every direction. They were in her mouth, her nostrils; they covered her eyes and slowly began to rob her of every sense one by one. She tried to breathe, to scream, but she had no air to draw on. No matter how much she struggled her foul living tomb moved and shifted around her, never yielding as slowly the blackness of oblivion came to claim her…_

"Milady, it is time to wake up." The voice, formal but with a monotonous edge roused her from her dreams as she felt someone gently shaking her. As she opened her eyes Alice saw that the hands and voice belonged to a man standing over her dressed in the uniform of a butler. He was short yet lean in frame, slouching over slightly, and had the drowsiest expression she had ever seen. His eyes were half shut with deep circles around the sockets while a pair of half moon spectacles perched on the bridge of his hook like nose. He looked less like a man and more like an insomniac penguin.

"I apologize for rousing you milady, but I felt you would do well to tidy yourself up before I take you to see the master." He said glancing down at Alice's blood caked clothing with mild disapproval. "Such a brutish means of bringing you here, whatever was he thinking?" The butler sighed turned his back to her his attention drawn to something on a polished black oak cabinet nearby.

By now Alice was wide awake and reaching for the brass candlestick sitting on the table next to her bed. When she was absolutely certain he was distracted she sprang up from her bed and tossed the heavy bed sheets over the butler before swinging down the candlestick as hard as she could at the vaguely man-shaped lump in the middle.

Rather then the distinctive thudding sound an object makes when it comes into contact with a skull, the candlestick swatted aside the blankets without resistance revealing the spot where the butler had just been standing to be now empty. Confused and more then a little alarmed Alice took a few steps back. Then she paused and sniffed at the air. Was that…Jasmine she smelt?

Turning around the poor girl nearly leapt out of her skin at the sight of the butler now directly behind her holding a cup of steaming hot tea. "Care for a drink before any more half baked heroics?" He asked his tone utterly devoid of rancor. After a beat he added. "I assure you it's not poisonous."

Alice stared at him warily still holding the candlestick like a bat. "Where…am I? And who are you for that matter?"

"Mm, fair enough questions I suppose." The butler set the cup of tea down on the tray next to him and gave a slight bow his right hand over his heart. "Lawrence Renfield, indebted servant to the lord of this castle, at your service. As to where you are, might I suggest you direct your attention to the window?"

Lawrence gestured to a window opening out into a balcony on the other side of the room. When Alice looked out at the scene displayed before her it took her breath away. Her current location seemed to be a massive medieval castle, built into the side of a mountain and supported by massive columns of stone, the smallest of which nearly dwarfed the village clock tower. The castle's sole connection to the vast wilderness below was through a raised drawbridge overlooking a precariously narrow pathway.

Alice might have better appreciated the beauty of such an ancient structure were it not for the fact that its true nature was laid bare for her to see in the heavily reinforced structures of the walls surrounding the main courtyard. Battlements, strategically placed towers, the entire structure was a perfectly conceived fortress, and was now also her prison. As if providing some parting mockery she could almost see the clock tower of Gallowmere far off in the distance; so close yet at the same time so far out of reach.

"Impressive isn't it?" Lawrence said appearing beside her on the balcony. "This castle was built centuries ago at the height of the feudal wars between the fiefdoms of ancient Europe, yet it is as formidable a stronghold today as it was when it was first constructed. My master found it favorable for both its ability to be easily defended and the isolation it shares with your hometown from the rest of the country. Speaking of which," Lawrence pulled out a pocket watch and gave it a glance. "I suggest you take advantage of the bath and clean clothing which are at your disposal before I take you to meet your host."

"And if I refuse?" Alice asked crossing her arms and raising her chin the very image of aristocratic pride. A low grinding sound diverted her attention to a pair of large suits of polished armor placed on either side of the two doors leading out of the room. The sound had apparently come from all four suits of armor turning their helmets to gaze directly at her, around the same time that she noticed the very large pikes each one held in their right gauntlets.

"…Which room is the bath chamber then?" Alice sighed realizing her options were limited right now. Lawrence pointed to the closest door and before she entered again offered her some tea. This time she took it realizing that if the owner of this castle had wanted her dead, then the monster that had attacked her wouldn't have bothered to swallow her whole. As she quickly drank it down Alice had to give Lawrence one thing: he made a good cup of tea.

Fortunately the bath provided no further surprises and as Alice took care to rinse the last of the clotted blood that clung to her skin and hair she tried to make sense of what was happening. It wasn't as if Alice's father had never considered the possibility that she might become a target of a kidnapping, as the mayor of Gallowmere he had enough wealth to be able to make a modest profit by holding her for ransom. But never in Alice's wildest dreams did she think she would be kidnapped by a, a monstrous puppet-man.

Her thoughts also wandered back to the man who had also been in her bedroom when she had woken up, the one who fought off the puppet man with a gleaming sword like some macabre knight in shining armor. What part did he have to play in all of this she wondered? Had he really been trying to protect her from all of this? Or had it just been an act for a larger scheme? Too many questions and not enough answers. The important thing was to remain calm. Alice was certain her father had alerted the authorities, and until help arrived she had to find out as much about what was going on as possible, even if for now that meant going along with the wishes of Lawrence's mysterious 'master'.

After thoroughly scrubbing herself clean Alice poked her head out of the doorway checking to see if Lawrence was still there. In his place a small bundle of clothing was now lying on her bed, her attire for the evening she suspected. Giving a wary glance at the suits of armor around the room Alice quickly dashed out with a towel wrapped snugly around her person, grabbed the clothes and rushed back into the bathroom. She didn't know whether the armor had moved via some mechanism or if there were people inside them, all she knew was Alice would be damned if she was going to give a peep show to her captors.

The dress turned out to be a black Victorian era ensemble, low cut with no shoulder sleeves as to better accent the outline of her bust with a long flowing tress covering her legs so she almost looked like she was gliding across the floor as she walked. So much for trying to preserve her modesty, Alice thought, she would have been less exposed in the towel. Still it was an improvement over being covered in dried blood, she'd have to make due.

Before she could even raise her hand to knock on the other door it suddenly unlocked and swung open on its own revealing Lawrence standing outside waiting patiently. He arched an eyebrow behind his glasses seeing her apparel but said nothing, turning and began to lead her down a corridor. As she followed him she thought she saw the door close behind her.

Overhead were hung a series of banners depicting a coat of arms like nothing Alice had ever seen before. The image was of a European broadsword wreathed in thorny brambles blood dripping down the blade and soaking them scarlet. Beneath a message was written in what appeared to be Latin. As if reading her mind Lawrence glanced up at one of the banners. "_Ex cruor of meus inimicus adveho fructus of bellum. _'From the blood of my foe comes the fruits of war'." He recited. Suddenly the shivers Alice was having were no longer just from the chill of the castle.

Aside from Lawrence nobody else seemed to be occupying the castle. Yet despite the lack of visual evidence Alice would occasionally hear groans from shifts in the stone, creaks from doors opening and closing. A few times Alice could even hear voices, but they were too faint and indistinct to make out clearly. At one point Alice gave a start as she felt something cold brush past her, but when she turned there was nothing to be found. There wasn't a soul in sight yet the whole castle felt…_alive._

After an eternity wandering through the dim empty hallways they came an enormous black iron double door with the same coat of arms branded onto the surface as was on the banners. It slowly swung open with a deafening rusty squeal revealing nothing beyond but absolute darkness, resembling the gaping jaws of a titan beast awaiting its next meal. "The master will be waiting for you inside," Lawrence said gesturing to the darkness within. "Do try not to keep him waiting."

As soon as Alice stepped inside the door swung shut behind her, leaving her in pitch black shadow. Then, as she took a tentative step forward a pair of candlelit torches on either side of the walls blazed to life, first a few then more and more ignited in turn as she walked down the center of the chamber. With every torch the room seemed to grow increasingly vast in scale.

Along with the aforementioned banners a single enormous stained glass mural adorned each wall. They depicted gruesome battles between armored knights and horrid shadowy creatures with enormous bat wings and razor sharp fangs that tore through their mortal foes and seemed to be drinking the blood that ran from their broken bodies beneath a moonlit sky. Yet the item that seemed to dominate the entire chamber was the monstrous pipe organ in the back. It was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, towering to the ceiling above and gleamed like a polished black jewel.

Alice's appreciation for it however, was marred by the ghoulish site of a skeleton sitting at the keys to the organ, the ancient bones arranged as if the long dead musician has passed away in the midst of its performance. Even with the memory of the rag man still fresh in her mind little could have prepared Alice for the fright that seized her as _with a brittle crack, the dead maestro's skeletal limbs lurched down upon the keys sending a deafening note echoing through the chamber!_

From the rafters of the chamber, as though summoned forth by the morbid performance, a flurry of bats began to descend, rushing past Alice with a chorus of screeches that seemed to keep in harmony with the organ's grim melody. Alice threw herself to the floor shielding her head with her hands but rather then attack her, the throng of bats suddenly split into two groups and flew in wide arcs along the right and left sides of the room before they joined in the center of the chamber. The bats began to fly around one another in a living maelstrom of wing, claw and fang, while the skeletal organist' tempo rose to a fever pitched until the entire castle seemed to resonate with the shrieking, howling timbre.

Then, all but hidden amongst the throng of whirling bats, a shape began to emerge. As the organist slammed down on the keys a muscular arm swept out and parted the column of bats as though it was a theater curtain, rippling with flawless muscle with the hand clenched into a fist. A second arm swept to the left as the organist gave another thunderous blast of the organ, both limbs raised to the sky as if in triumph.

The rest of the shadows ebbed and flowed across a build the envy of even the finest Greek statue, becoming pitch black aristocratic attire with silk cufflinks, gold buttons and a red tie before all was concealed within the enfolding wing like cloak that slowly settled around the figure's broad shoulders. With a series of sickening cracks long claw like spikes sprouted from the shoulder blades fanning out over both broad shoulders resembling nothing less then the enlarged wing tips of a bat.

Finally, the last of the shadows vanished revealing the face of a man whose expression radiated the cold arrogance of a king. His skin was a cold slate grey with pointed ears, golden blond hair and a thick mustache. His eyes burned like hellfire as he stared down at Alice his mouth twisting into a fanged caricature of a tender smile. As the organ's song finally came to a crescendo he spoke in a deep rumbling purr slowly walking towards Alice. "At long last we meet, dear child. How I have longed for this moment."

Having picked herself up off the ground Alice tried to stand her ground, now she seemed to have come face to face with the lord of this estate and she intended to find out exactly what this was all about. "I don't you know who you are, or why you abducted me, but I demand that you return me to my home this instant!" She said mustering as much of her nerve as she could.

The man threw back his head and gave a roaring hearty laugh. "Ah, such beauty, such strength of spirit! Truly, you were a prize worth waiting to obtain. To think that from the ranks of the squalid humans a rose such as you could come into bloom, a rose that, at long last is mine alone to savor." He said reaching out to touch her face, so close she could feel his breath waft over her exposed flesh making her shiver.

Alice's hand drew back and struck the man in the face the sound ringing through the empty chamber as his face was jerked to the side. The man simply stood there his hand still outstretched as if he had taken root, before slowly he turned his head his expression cold and ugly, his previous smile becoming a feral sneer. "So the rose has thorns…what fun it will be to tame you." He purred before suddenly his hand was around Alice's neck in a grip like iron. The poor girl gasped for breath as he lifted her up as if she weighed no more then a feather, kicking at the air as she slowly suffocated. "And make no mistake, you _will _be tamed."

Just as Alice was about to pass out his expression seemed to grow more tranquil as he released his death grip causing her to fall to her knees coughing and desperately sucking in deep lungs full of air. She had no idea anyone could be so _strong, _it felt like her wind pipe had nearly been crushed. As she fought for air the man turned and looked up at the mural overlooking the organ his glowing red eyes blazing in contemplation.

"For too long has my kind been forgotten by the world of man and shadow alike. Once we were the matchless lords of earth, shadow and sky, and with the coming of night our domain would stretch to cover the world. Then, the humans rose up against us, weak in body but possessing the secrets as to our greatest weaknesses, until all but a few of us have survived. Today, we are rulers only of the realm of humanity's nightmares, our only victories in the fictions and fantasies of those who were once our prey. But now,"

The man turned his expression fixed solely on Alice. "Now at long last I have found one worthy of becoming my everlasting queen. You wish to know of my name? Then listen well, and may you be the first to hear the title of the one who this world shall soon call KING! I am Count Ivan Palethorn, last of the twelve Grand Generals of the Vampire/human war, and tonight, my kin will, be, _reborn!"_

Thats right folks, the premiere villain of 'Dance Macabre' stands revealed as one of the last of the most terrible of monsters to ever haunt fiction and motion picture alike, at least back in the glory days of Bela Lugosi LOL Next chapter Voltaire and inspector Lestrad encounter the first of Palethorn's sentries, a wicked phantom with a taste for playing with fire. Can Voltaire's Skull Servants stand their ground against ghouls of an entirely different flavor? Find out in the next chapter 'Flame Ghost'. Oh and for anyone curious as to the model Palethorn's character is based on, look up Disgaga 2: Cursed Memories for the Playstation 2 and PSP. Until next time, adieu!


	3. Flame Ghost

Shadowchasers: Dance Macabre

By Metal Overlord 2.0

Hello again everyone and welcome to chapter three of 'Dance Macabre'. I apologize for the delay in getting this chapter out, I went through several revisions before I found everything to my liking and, with a little luck my hard work will pay. I'd like to thank everyone who's read and reviewed so far, with special mention to Michael DJ and Scarlet Weatherman, both of whom have been invaluable in their feedback and suggestions as this chapter progressed. That said? Enjoy the chapter!

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"Alright, let me get this straight," Lestrad remarked as he followed Baskerville and Voltaire through the heart of the forest surrounding Gallowmere. "I'm on the trail of a kidnapping with no idea as to the identities or the motivations of the guilty party responsible; my backup consists of a deluded vigilante whose reason for breaking into a man's house sound like it was ripped from the script of a tabletop role playing game. Our supplies amount to one pistol, limited ammunition, trading cards, an oversized wristwatch, and a sword. And now our only real guide, you're self proclaimed 'demon dog' can't seem to smell a damn thing."

Voltaire looked over from where he was patting an unhappy Baskerville. For the last half hour the hell hound had seemed to lose his earlier drive and had been leading them in circles through the dense forest. "That's about the gist of it yes, and, your point would be?" He asked arching an eyebrow behind his glasses.

The inspector paused before giving a small sigh. "Oh nothing really, I was just wondering when any of this is going to start making sense."

"Oh is _that _what's been bothering you? Well as soon as I figure that one out myself, I'll be sure to let you know. In any case you're not the only one who's concerned with how the trail seems to have suddenly gone cold." The Shadowchaser pulled out the warp stone and, for the third time so far tonight held it out for the hound to smell.

Baskerville took several deep whiffs and, for a moment seemed to set off in a direction with a fair amount of certainty. But then he stopped, sniffed at the air and gave a frustrated growl as if he had already lost the scent again. "Odd, something about the area's interfering with Baskerville's senses, normal and supernatural alike. Closest I could come to describing it is how a storm can interfere with the radar system of an airplane. "

"Which is all well and good except there's barely a cloud in the sky," Lestrad observed looking up at the night sky, partially hidden beneath the thick interlocking canopy of gnarled leafless branches from the trees around them. "And I can't think of many chemical based odors that could throw a dog's sense of smell off AND be undetected by human scent. So what does that leave us with?"

"Nothing that bodes well, unfortunately," Voltaire said running his hand over the surface of a dead tree. "My best guess is something is giving off an aura potent enough to mask all other traces of magical energy in the area, and a particularly malevolent aura at that. Have you noticed how quiet the forest is tonight inspector?"

After taking a moment to cock an ear the inspector's eyebrows furrowed as for the first time the complete absence of sound in the forest became apparent to him. There was no chirp of a cricket, no distant hooting of an owl, nothing but the low mournful howl of the wind and the swaying of lifeless tree limbs. "Hmm, come to think of it this is a bit out of the ordinary, you think there's a connection?"

"Most likely, animals are far more in tune to their surroundings then humans inspector, call it instinct, call it a sixth sense, but something here is warning every living thing in the area to stay away," Voltaire was saying as he stepped through a bush and suddenly stopped. "Inspector? I think you better come take a look at this."

Pushing past the inspector's eye widened as he looked upon a clearing in the forest that didn't seem to have been cut so much as it had been _scorched. _The ground was covered with a fine layer of ash that smothered the ground without as much as a single blade of grass poking through while burn marks had been left the trees around the clearing little more then blackened husks. The utter desolation made the rest of the lifeless forest seem almost endearing.

"The _hell _happened here?" Lestrad wondered. "If I didn't know better I'd say a bomb went off." He had seen photographs of the devastation Britain had suffered from the constant bombardment of German bombers during the second World War, and the similarities between the way the area had seemingly been scoured clean of life was deeply unsettling.

"Except a bomb would have blown these trees to bits, and despite the obvious scorch marks they seem to be more or less intact, which means something else started the fire that happened here." Voltaire said kneeling down and taking a pinch of the ashes between his thumb and forefinger. Reaching into his coat he took out what looked like a telescopic eyepiece, similar to the devices used to examine gemstones and tapped a few progressively smaller lenses into place. When the last lens slid into place he paused. "…Okay that's creepy."

"It is a bit of an eyesore granted, but what's got you so spooked about a pile of ash?" Lestrad wondered not noticing Baskerville suddenly raise his head and stare at something behind them.

"You mean other then the fact that these ashes seem to contain tiny fragments of _cremated human bone?_" Voltaire said in a flat tone. Seeing the inspector's startled expression he gestured to the soil around them. "The ash were standing in is littered with traces of a skeletal structure too large to belong to an animal. Someone was set on fire and left here to roast inspector, and in my line of work that's usually a recipe for several very unpleasant scenarios."

It was Baskerville's deep growl that alerted both men to what was now happening around them. Like the questing limbs of a nightmarish squid, tendrils of glowing green luminescent energy drifted out from every direction flowing over the ground with a disturbing air of purpose. "Does a light show like this fall under one of those scenarios Voltaire?" The inspector asked stepping out of the way of a tendril of the stuff as it slithered close to his foot.

"Unfortunately, yes. Its ectoplasm, an energy source spirits use for physical manifestations, the stronger the spirit the more ectoplasm required, and this looks like a _lot." _Voltaire explained warily eyeing where the tendrils seemed to be slowly converging at a spot in the center of the clearing in a glowing vortex of supernatural energy.

"Ectoplasm? Wait, you mean like the stuff in, oh what was that movie, 'Ghostbusters'?" There was a pregnant moment of silence where Voltaire and Baskerville gave the inspector identical looks of disbelief. "What? Its not like living in a village is synonymous with living under a damn rock." He snapped irritably.

Before Voltaire could comment the ground beneath them began to shift and churn like a sand dune. The ashes began to use the ectoplasm as mortar to slowly give shape to a charred black human skeleton. As it neared completion the skeleton suddenly arched its back empty eye sockets glowing from within with a fiendish red light its jaws snapping wide open. As they watched it crawled to its feet all the while regenerating muscle and flesh while fragments of ancient cloth was woven back into a tattered semblance of a petty coat and breeches.

But even as a being of flesh and blood the creature (or was it a man?) in front of them was still horribly disfigured. Blistered lifeless skin lay beneath ill fitting bandages wrapped around his face, the loose ends twisting in the air like the hair of a gorgon beneath a tri cornered colonial hat. The freshly resurrected creature's hands reached to his throat as he struggled to breathe, hacking up ash and dirt before finally taking a hoarse death rattle gasp. Noticing Voltaire and the inspector the creature reached into his coat, and with a flourish pulled out a rusty antique flintlock pistol which he leveled at Voltaire before he spoke his voice hoarse and brimming with malice. "Stand and deli-"

BANG! BANG! BANGBANGBANG! The ghoul's body jerked with every shot fired from Lestrad's revolver every bullet hitting its mark. One shot the gun out of his hand (and blew off a finger), one hit him right between the eyes snapping his neck back with a crack of his vertebrae, and as he collapsed in a heap three more rounds tore through his body piercing both his heart and lungs.

"…Huh, well that was a bit anti-climactic." Lestrad said reloading his gun while Voltaire's eyes had doubled in size behind his glasses. After a moment the inspector looked back at Voltaire and smirked behind his mustache. "Oh I'm sorry, was that the part when you were going to negotiate your way around a bullet by challenging him to a card game?"

Voltaire looked at him blankly before putting a hand to his mouth to stifle a laugh. "In theory, but theoretically I'm also supposed to be able to intimidate criminal shadow-kind out of discarding loaded firearms…don't worry just because Jalal believes it doesn't mean I have to." He added seeing the expression on Lestrad's face.

"The more I learn about this little club of yours the more amazed I am that any of you live to see thirty." Lestrad said as he and Voltaire turned to leave the clearing. "Though I'm a bit surprised that one of these big bad boogiemen you lot are supposed to keep in line go down as quickly from a bullet as any other criminal."

The two men took a few more steps before suddenly stopping as they reached the same conclusion simultaneously. "…He's not really dead is he?"

"Well technically he already _is _so I suppose what we just did seems a bit…redundant." Voltaire and Lestrad exchanged a look before turning around. The fallen ghoul had burst into flames as he rose up like a phoenix his wounds searing shut and filling the air with the grotesque smell of burning flesh. The ghoul reached up and wrenched his head back down to face them with a sickening crack his face stretching into a deranged grin.

"Heh-heh-heh…your going to need something with a little more pop to put me back in the ground copper, now its _my _turn." He raised a hand before a fireball began to build in his palm before he thrust his hand forward hurling it at inspector Lestrad. With a snarl that bordered on leonine Baskerville leapt into the path taking the blast head on.

Where a normal dog would have been incinerated the hound's head simply jerked to the side before turning to reveal that not so much as a hair was singed. Baskerville took a step towards the ghoul growling as his form seemed to slowly take on a far more menacing quality before he paused in mid shift as Voltaire stepped forward.

"Thanks for looking after the inspector Baskerville, but I'll take it from here." Voltaire said before he raised his right hand and slammed it into the soul as his eyes glowed behind his glasses. A black mist began to emanate from Voltaire's outstretched palm, similar in nature to the ectoplasm that had revived the ghoul, covering the clearing until both he and the ghoul were enshrouded in a pulsing dark miasma.

Lestrad stared in silence processing what had just happened for a moment before he simply sat down on a rock and shook his head. "…I don't know what just happened and frankly I don't _want _to know. They don't pay me enough for this bloody job, that's all I'm going to say." He muttered folding his arms across his chest as he waited to see what happened next. Baskerville joined him in silent vigilance knowing all too well what was about to unfold.

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Inside the miasma Voltaire and the ghoul stood across from one another neither of them saying a word. Then a far more lucid chuckle escaped those cracked charred lips. "Fancy that, first couple of victims that stumble into my neck of the woods in years and one of them knows how to start a Shadow Game, pretty dangerous trick for a Shadowchaser."

Voltaire gave the ghoul a suspicious look. "You seem rather well informed for someone who just crawled out of the dirt. I'm guessing you're not just a random specter."

The ghoul gave a mocking bow. "How right you are sir! The name's Adleg, former footpad and indentured enforcer to the lord of Gallowmere, at your service."

"Lord of Gallowmere?" Voltaire's eyebrow arched. "Last time I checked this area belonged to the townsfolk, not some nameless aristocrat. Does this 'lord' have a deed verifying that claim?"

"Unlike Jalal, my employer prefers the authority of the iron fist over any amount of paperwork sir, which is why I've been called upon to bring and end to your excursions tonight. In exchange he's promised to extend my stay among the living for some…recreation." Adleg's smoldering eyes gleamed with murderous anticipation at this. "So name your challenge stranger, I don't have all night."

Voltaire pulled out his duel disk and quickly slipped it on as it whirred to life. "Probably the only thing were going to agree on tonight. My choice shall be Duel Monsters."

Adleg lowered his head and sneered before thrusting out his right arm to the side. In a burst of flames a coal black duel disk appeared with the deck tray shaped like the open mouth of a skull. "Break out the butter…I'm gonna make _TOAST!"_

VOLTAIRE: 8000 LP ADLEG: 8000 LP

"I'll go first," Adleg said whipping the top card from his deck. Scanning the contents of his hand he smirked. "Right off the bat you're in for a world of pain stranger. I play Everliving Underworld Cannon." With a rumble a ghoulish looking cannons big enough to be mounted on a battleship rose up with a skull's head for the barrel. "Now once per turn whenever a Zombie type monster is special summoned you'll take eight hundred points of damage."

Behind his glasses Voltaire blinked in surprise. _He's using a Zombie type deck as well? Interesting, if I can assemble my Bone Towers I'll be able to deck him out in no time. _He thought before his attention was drawn to the sight of Adleg discarding a monster from his hand. Before he could comment a pair of flaming skulls appeared on each side of the ghoul which began to orbit him with a cackle (1000/800). _Burning Skulls? That means the card he discarded had to have been Skull Conductor…oh this is going to hurt. _

"Now you not only take damage from my Cannon, but from each of my Skulls, to get ready to feel the burn stranger!" Adleg laughed as the cannon fired a skull shaped energy beam while at the same time the flaming skulls whirled towards Voltaire their fiery auras looking like the tails of a comet. The Shadowchaser crossed his arms in front of his chest before they began to slam into him one after another, gritting his teeth as swet broke out on his brow from the heat.

"And to think people used to think it was _safer _to go second after your opponent…eh?" Looking down at his duel disk the Shadowchaser's brow furrowed at what the life point counter was telling him. "Not that I'm complaining mind you, but shouldn't I have taken more damage from that move?"

Adleg gave a wheezing cackle echoed by the duet of skulls circling him. "Confused? You're not up against the original Burning Skull archetype stranger, what you see here is the upgraded forms of Burning Skull Head, Inferno Skull. They make up for their reduced effect damage for several potent abilities. Of course whether you live long enough to find those out is another matter entirely. Two facedown cards and my turn is done." The remainder of the ghoul's hand was set on either side of the underworld cannon.

VOLTAIRE: 5600 LP ADLEG: 8000 LP

_I'm starting to miss dealing with the Bandersnatch already _Voltaire thought drawing a card. _It might have been a mindless sociopath but at least it couldn't talk. _"You're not the only one who's fond of using Skull monsters, I summon Skull Chevalier in attack mode!" Voltaire said playing the card. A form leapt over his head and landed with a cry. It was a skeleton identical in shape to Skull Servant except it was dressed in the outfit of a musketeer. It drew a fencer's blade from it's sheathe and struck a dramatic pose (1900/0).

"Not only is its attack score formidable for a level four monster, but by discarding a level three or lower non Tuner Zombie from my deck, it can attack twice in one battle phase, destroy his Inferno Skulls!" Voltaire commanded. Skull Chevalier leapt forward skewering one of the burning skulls in midair. Then, as Voltaire quickly sent a Lady in Wight from his deck, the chevalier turned bending the thrust into a sideways slash splitting the second skull in half along the line of its jaw. Unsurprisingly Adleg seemed to have placed his monsters in defense mode so his disk registered no battle damage.

What _was _surprising was the sight of him suddenly drawing five cards off the top of his deck and fanning them out in front of his face. He pointed to one of his facedown cards which were now active. "Draw power is always vital for a deck like mine where my strategies eat up the cards in my hand quickly, and Card of Last Will is among the rarer ones at my disposal. Struggle as much as you'd like, it will give all the more fuel to my fire!"

"If you're done fulfilling your quota for villainous monologue, I haven't finished my turn yet," Voltaire said taking another card from his hand. "On the turn a card has been sent from my deck to the graveyard Flute of Hammelin enables us to discard all monsters of the same name from our hands and deck. Normally this would mean I simply discard two more copies of Lady in Wight, but since it's treated as a Skull Servant while in my graveyard I discard all three copies of that monster instead." The three level one zombies jutted out from his deck before he snatched them up and quickly discarded them. "A facedown card will end my turn." Voltaire said as he took one more card and placed it behind his monster.

Adleg drew his next card with a sneer. "Well if you wanted me to stick to the action stranger, all you had to do was ask!" With a roar a massive iron furnace rose up behind him in the shape of a skull with smoke billowing from its sockets flames spewing from between the bars of the grill that served as the 'mouth'. Skull Furnace is a continuous spell card that allows me to special summon an Inferno Skull from my deck to the field."

The entire furnace started to shake and groan ominously as Adleg took a card from his deck and placed it on the board. The grill over the furnace snapped open before the last of the Inferno Skulls came shrieking out of the flames like a cannonball, striking Voltaire before a second blast from the underworld cannon added to the damage. "And that's not all! I chain my last Inferno Skull's summoning to Inferno Reckless Summon."

Before the Shadowchaser could recover from the previous barrage two more of the skulls shot out from the furnace forcing him to his knees as all three of the skulls cackled with glee (1000/800X3). It was a while before he was able to get back up, steam wafting up from his coat thankful for the protective wards that had been woven into the coat's fabric. But despite the much needed protection the Shadow Game was beginning to take it toll. "I'll…ugh, use Reckless Summons effect to summon two more Skull Chevaliers." He said as two identical skeletal swordsmen appeared to join the first all three raising their blades in a show of camaraderie (1900/0X3).

"Strength in numbers won't save you stranger; I sacrifice two of my Inferno Skulls to summon Skull Flame." With a shriek all but one of the skulls exploded the flames from their destruction swirling together and becoming a menacing phantom, dressed in the lavish robes of a king with shoulder plates made of bone and a fiery mane (2600/2000). "Luckily for you, using the effect of Skull Furnace bars me from my battle phase for this round, so I'll finish my turn."

VOLTAIRE: 2200 LP ADLEG: 8000 LP

Voltaire drew a card assessing what options were available with the cards he had. Seeing at least a temporary solution he nodded to himself. "I play Riryoku, cutting the attack score of Skull Flame and adding the amount lost to one of my Skull Chevaliers." The burning phantom hissed and held its chest as it glowed with a dark blue aura, a similar aura appearing around the middle skeletal swordsman (1900-3200/0).

"Skull Chevalier, destroy Skull Flame!" The augmented undead warrior charged using the same thrust technique its sibling had used to destroy the Inferno Skulls before. Adleg smirked and snapped his fingers the furnace behind him suddenly shaking as it powered up once more. But this time when the Skull Furnace's grill covered mouth cracked open it inhaled sucking the last Inferno Skull into its gullet screaming all the while.

Flames shot out from its eyes while at the same time the burning aura around Skull Flames intensified. Emboldened by its newfound power the infernal ruler held out a claw a fireball burning in each one before it slammed them together sending out a burning shockwave that slammed into the charging Skull Chevalier and sending it crashing into its comrades. "Forgot to mention the second ability my Skull Furnace has, by sacrificing a Fire attribute Zombie I can end your battle phase immediately. Looks like you wasted a potent spell for nothing!" The ghoul laughed.

Voltaire simply grinned and showed the ghoul a spell card from his hand. "Don't be so sure. At the right instant my King of Skull Servants' power can grow to eight, nine or even ten thousand points or more, so its always amazing what a substantial boost such a common card like Mystic Wok can give me." The Skull Chevalier chosen for Riryoku's effect took off its hat and bowed to Voltaire before vanishing into a cloud of dark energy which the Shadowchaser absorbed into his body. "Ah, much better, now, what was that you were saying about having 'wasting a potent spell card'?"

Seeing his opponent just glare at him he sighed and waved his hand. "Oh why do I even bother? Go on make your move then." He said switching his remaining Chevaliers into defense mode.

VOLTAIRE: 5400 LP ADLEG: 8000 LP

Adleg paused before he initiated his draw phase seeming to mull something over. "I _could _use Skull Flame's effect to retrieve one of my Inferno Skulls from my graveyard and then special summon it from my hand, but I think I'll forgo that option to conduct my normal draw phase." He said drawing a fifth card. "Besides, now that three copies of Inferno Skull are in my graveyard, I can use their third effect to shuffle them back into my deck, and draw another card." The skulls burst out of the ghoul's graveyard and disappeared into his deck before a card was ejected into his hand.

_But that means…he can use Skull Furnace in combination with those Inferno Skulls indefinitely! _Voltaire realized his eyes widening. _Skull Flames was just a way of getting them into his graveyard faster, as long as he keeps sacrificing the Inferno Skulls he summons from his deck with Skull Furnace to hold off my attacks , he can do at least forty eight hundred points of damage before reloading to repeat the entire procedure! _

As if reading the Shadowchaser's mind Adleg sneered and snapped his fingers. Skull Furnace started back up before spitting out an Inferno Skull, both it and the blast from the Underworld Cannon striking Voltaire taking away half of the life points he had managed to recover last turn in one move. "How are you feeling Shadowchaser, rare, medium, or well done? I'll roast you alive to whatever is your taste!"

"_ENOUGH WITH THE ONE LINERS!" _Voltaire roared making the ghoul draw back in surprise. The duel so far had been rapidly draining his patience and it seemed Voltaire had reached his breaking point. "I mean really, what's next? 'Flame on!'? 'It's going to be a hot time in the old town tonight'? _The damn chorus lines from 'We Didn't Start the Fire'? _We are in the middle of a Shadow Game, yet I am _literally _experiencing more pain listening to your bit player monologue then _any _amount of damage you've dealt me so far! So either _put up _or _shut up!_"

Adleg stared at the Shadowchaser for a moment before he took a card from his hand and slapped it onto the tray. Suddenly every monster on both sides of the field vanished as a heavy fog began to roll in. As Voltaire tried to see through the black mist an enormous shape trundled out of the darkness. It was a massive oriental wagon with a fiendish green demon's head jutting from the front of the wagon between two burning wheels. A clawed hand on either side of the wagon's upper half held a lantern, each one swinging back and forth with its movements (?-5000/1000). "Kasha the Fire Wagon, how's _that _for 'put up or shut up' Shadowchaser?" He growled.

Voltaire took a step back in shock finding his field now completely devoid of monsters. Seeing his expression the ghoul leered in triumph. "No witty comeback now eh? Too bad, Kasha! _Kill him!" _The demon head's eyes glowed as the wheels on either side of the wagon began to spin faster and faster before they suddenly flew off the hinges and took off towards Voltaire like flaming buzz saws. Discarding a card from his hand Voltaire opened his mouth to say something when both wheels slammed into him full force in an explosion that hid him from view.

Adleg strained to see through the mist the impact had kicked up eager to see Voltaire's dismembered body parts littering the ground. What he saw was the Shadowchaser standing upright completely unharmed. Seeing the thunderstruck expression on his opponent's face Voltaire gave a toothy grin. "Had you going didn't I? Sorry, I owe it to a friend of mine to stay in one piece tonight."

"_HOW…" _Adleg started to bellow flames bursting all around his body before he noticed the card Voltaire had activated right before the attack. Rage gave way to confusion the flames smoldering. "Rainbow Life? You had that card set the whole time?"

"I know what your thi…" Voltaire stopped in mid-sentence a peculiar look coming over his face. "Actually scratch that, I'm likely a lot happier not knowing what your thinking so let me put it another way. I _suspect _to have a _general _impression of what you _might _be thinking, which would likely be 'Voltaire you miserable third rate excuse for a duelist, you could have activated Rainbow Life at any time and discourage me from an entire round's worth of my Skull Cannon combo.'"

"…Perhaps not in so many words, but something along those lines did cross my mind." Adleg admitted scratching his blistered blackened scalp beneath his hat.

"If that's on account of an itch I'd call that a lost cause friend," Voltaire said before changing the subject as Adleg's eyes burned. "Anyway, the point is, I _could _have used it sooner, but I didn't. Because I knew that if I goaded you into trying to finish me off in one turn, I could use it to restore my life points to their starting amount and then some. And seeing as Rainbow Life's effect will last for the remainder of your turn, I'd say the number of options you have are now limited at best."

Adleg gritted his teeth before taking two cards from his hand and setting them. "Two cards facedown, that's all for now." He said his hand now consisting of three cards.

VOLTAIRE: 8800 LP ADLEG: 8000 LP

Voltaire drew a card and looked at his current hand. "Try and keep up with me, this is going to get complicated. First I set a card and play Skull Fortune. Now I can draw one card for every monster labeled 'Skull Servant' in my graveyard, until my hand reaches maximum size." He drew four more cards until his hand reached a total of six glancing at one of his new cards with a touch of disappointment.

"Pity, if I had known I was about to get this I would have done this earlier for an extra draw, ah well. Next I activate the card I set earlier Giant Trunade!" He flipped over the spell card as a hideous face appeared in the sky above them and howled the sound sending a whirlwind through the arena. Voltaire held onto his hat with one hand and his cards with the other his coat flapping in the breeze.

Adleg wasn't so lucky, all of his spell and trap cards were swept off the field and Kasha's lamps flickered its burning aura threatening to go out any moment. The ghoul swore under his breath as he struggled to hold onto all seven cards now in his hand. "Clever, but all I need to do is set them all next turn and you'll be right back where you…what is _that?_" He asked seeing a spell card appear on Voltaire's side of the field he had never seen before. It had the image of the man from Ordeal of the Traveler with a terrified expression on his face as Infernity Death Gunman held his pistol to his temple.

"It's called Suffering of the Traveler. Now I call the name of a number of cards up to the number in your hand. In this case the number is potentially seven but I'll settle for four. Now, if I correctly guess the identity of a card in your hand you must discard it, but if I get it wrong one of _my _cards is discarded and I lose one thousand life points for each mistake."

Closing his eyes Voltaire began to think, mumbling something under his breath before he spoke out loud. "I believe among the cards in your hand are…Everliving Underworld Cannon…Skull Furnace…Tutan Mask…and unless I'm mistaken…Fire Trap?"

The cards left Adleg's hand not so much by a conscious move to discard them, rather by the ghoul dropping more then half the cards in his hand out of shock. "That's…that's not possible…how did you know those were the cards I had set?" The ghoul demanded outrage and suspicion on his face.

"It only took a little deductive reasoning really," Voltaire said his eyes still closed as he spoke. "The trick was picturing what I would do in your situation. Though your motives are vile, I cannot deny that you are an excellent Zombie duelist, perhaps even equal to my own skill with the type. Thus I tried to imagine the steps I would take to maintain the advantage you had up until now."

"The most likely strategy would be a two layered defense: one card to protect your monster and the other to protect your spells and traps. Since neither card activated when Giant Trunade was played that immediately ruled out Magic Jammer, Dark Bribe, and Solemn Judgment. Out of the remaining options Fire Trap seemed the most likely answer, oh sure there were flashier counter traps like Judgment of Anubis that might have done the job just as well, but its difficult to resist cards that are both powerful _and _fit snugly into your overlying theme."

"Deciding on Tutan Mask was more of a matter of deducting the most versatile defense for Kasha. There are obviously the more generic cards like Destruction Jammer and My Body as a Shield, but as a fellow Zombie duelist I figured you'd take advantage of a trap that could protect not only against targeting effects based on destroying monsters, but crippling them in other just as devastating ways. Tutan Mask would keep Kasha safe from everything from Dark Core to Nightmare Wheel to Shrink to Fiendish Chains just to name a few, all without paying so much as a dime. So? How did I do?" He asked peeking one eye open and giving a toothy grin.

Adleg cursed and stuffed all four cards into his graveyard far more roughly then necessary. "This wouldn't be so humiliating if you weren't so fond of flapping your damn tongue." He growled.

Voltaire opened his mouth to say something, and then paused. "Hmm, I _do _seem to love the sound of my own voice don't I? A terrible habit but sadly one I have yet to find myself able to break. Moving right along then, I summon Lady in Wight in attack mode." With a mournful wail a skeleton with stark white hair and a tattered black dress flew down out of the darkness floating in midair as spiders crawled in and out of her empty eye sockets (0/2200).

Taking off his hat Voltaire bowed to the Lady in Wight who turned and gave a giggle before curtsying in a macabre exchange of pleasantries. Noticing Adleg's expression he smirked and held up a finger. "Be she of fur and claw, scale and fang, hoof and wing, slime and tendril, or death itself, no woman should ever be denied a gentleman's respect."

"Feh, in that case I promote you from an idiot to a chivalrous idiot, it still doesn't change the fact that you summoned that bag of bones in attack mode where I can blast away more then half your life points in one attack." Adleg retorted earning a glare from Voltaire's monster.

"Oh she will be attacked make no mistake, just not by _you_. The funny thing is, even if I hadn't gotten rid of Tutan Mask it would have been useless against my next card seeing as it doesn't technically 'target' a monster." He flipped a card around from his hand and showed it to the ghoul whose pupils shrank.

"Lord and damnation…" Adleg groaned as he realized the true havoc Voltaire was setting up to inflict on him this turn had only begun.

"Oh so your familiar with Creature Swap then?" Voltaire said beaming as their monsters vanished and reappeared on the opposite side of the field. "It's a versatile little devil in general but it works _beautifully _with my deck. So many of my monsters start out with abysmal attack score all I need to do is wait for my opponent's to summon some double tribute terror or high attack NOMI, summon a Skull Servant and voila! Now then," He adjusted his glasses the red ting of the lenses making his smile take on a far more sinister nature. "I think it's about time we addressed the lack of damage you've taken up until now. Are you ready Lady in Wight?"

The monster nodded with a cackle clearly eager to help deal a crushing blow to the ghoul. "Kasha, attack now!" Voltaire declared thrusting a hand forward. Rather then attack with its burning wheels the entire fire wagon rolled forward at breakneck speed. Lady in Wight turned to Adleg and gave a sneer before she floated up and vanished leaving nothing between him and the five thousand points worth of damage bearing down on him. The ghoul screamed as Kasha plowed into him full force, straining to push off from the advancing zombie even as he was slowly pulled under its wheels and crushed.

Finally Kasha rolled to a stop the tattered remains of Adleg's broken body still dangling from beneath the wagon. With a fiendish laugh the monster suddenly rolled back in reverse crushing Adleg a _second _time. The sound of snapping bone and pulping flesh making Voltaire pull down his hat wincing. "Ooh, I hope he didn't bother to regenerate a working nervous system that hurt just _listening _to it."

When he looked up Adleg was more or less a broken semi-liquid smear of mangled flesh and bone streaked along the ground for several feet, with a faint residue still clinging to Kasha's wheels. Either my miracle or dumb luck both his duel disk and cards lay on the ground next to the ghoul's remains intact. "I'm not sure if you can actually hear me at this point, but I'm ending my turn now. I'll understand if you need a minute to, ahem, 'compose' yourself."

VOLTAIRE: 8800 LP ADLEG: 3000 LP

For at least a minute Adleg's remains failed to so much as twitch. Then, slowly the broken heap began to catch on fire as the ghoul began to regenerate once more. Immediately however Voltaire could tell something was wrong. Instead of ectoplasm, tendrils of dark energy from the miasma around them were flowing into the ghoul's writhing carcass. The flames turned from an angry red to a strange purplish black, and wherever they touched Adleg's form the grey mottled flesh began to slough away leaving nothing but blackened bone.

Adleg took a step forward wheezing abnormally, and with every breath a crimson mist leaked from his mouth staining his teeth reddish black. From deep within Adleg's chest a low growl began to emerge rising in volume until it erupted into a scream of unimaginable hatred and anger. As he screamed his eyes sizzled and exploded from within, leaving empty sockets from which tongues of flame shot forth as the last of Adleg's flesh fell away leaving him a burning skeleton.

_Good lord…he's lost all trace of his original form, the hatred in his soul must have kept growing and growing until it finally consumed him. Now, bolstered by the power of the Shadow Realm, he's transcended from a generic ghoul to a full fledged Wraith. _Voltaire thought realizing the battle had taken a far more dangerous turn.

By now Adleg had gathered back up his duel disk and cards and drew a fourth card. When he spoke more of the red mist (which Voltaire now realized was actually what little blood remained in his body reaching beyond the point of boiling) spilled out of his mouth. _"Draw card…play Trade In. Discard Skull Flame… draw twice." _Rather then simply discard it the copy of Skull Flame caught on fire and burnt to ashes as the wraith drew two more cards his hand growing to five. _"I play…Aetonix Flame…die…DIE!" _

As Adleg screamed his jaw cracked impossibly wide and vomited out a wave of searing black flame. Kasha was consumed by the blast wailing all the while before its burnt husk finally shattered. Then the second part of Aetonix Flame took effect, Skull Flame rising up with a laugh from the graveyard (2600/2000).

Then Adleg took a card from his hand and swapped Skull Flame for it, as the monster vanished and a far larger monster took its place. It resembled Skull Flame in general outline, but its body was far more bestial looking with a roaring furnace in its chest with flames spewing from pipes running down its back in two rows. Its almost crocodilian mouth split open as the beast threw back its head and gave a cry like nothing Voltaire had ever heard before. It was like the shriek of a train whistle merged with the roar of some ancient dinosaur, flames spewing from the pipes on its back forming a much larger version of Skull Flame's burning mane (2600/2000).

"_Tribute Skull Flame…summon…Inferno Skull Beast-Folgaran…" _Adleg rasped his eye sockets glowing menacingly. _"Activate first effect…discard up to three…Inferno Skulls from the deck…to the graveyard…deal five hundred points of damage…each." _As the three zombies ejected from the deck Folgaran inhaled deeply before spitting out three enormous fireballs. This time the force behind each blast was nearly enough to knock Voltaire off his feet; the runes began to give off a warning red glow complex patterns snaking across the surface of the trench coat indicating they were nearing their limit.

But what became a far more immediate concern to him was the sight of Folgaran's chest furnace glowing far more fiercely then before as its attack power began to climb (2600-3800/2000). _"Folgaran gains…four hundred attack points…for every Inferno Skull in graveyard" _Adleg rasped. _"However…when first effect is used…battle phase is forfeit…but…not satisfied…must see you suffer more." _Adleg played a spell card that Voltaire only dimly recognized, some obscure report of an incident during the Kaibacorp Grand Prix? _"Mischief of…the Time Goddess…turn moves ahead…field is treated as being in second main phase…move to battle phase…ATTACK!" _

Folgaran gave another wail as it charged dragging one of its claws along the ground flames covering its talons before it delivered a savage upward strike that sent Voltaire flying through the air and landing hard on his back with a cry of pain. The runes had only barely managed to absorb enough of the blow to prevent the five identical claw marks on the Shadowchaser's coat from reaching his flesh. Rolling over onto his stomach Voltaire looked around for his hat and saw that it had fallen a few feet away and had caught on fire. "I think…I liked it better when he was making puns." He growled crawling over to it. Struggling into a sitting position he beat out the flames and put it back on his head with a grimace.

Adleg gave a dry scratchy laugh, ash and bloody mist staining his duel disk and cards. _"Yesssss…Destroy…must destroy it all…everything will burn…everything will die…just as I did…no other path…is left. Moving to…second main phase…shuffle Inferno Skulls… back to deck…draw card." _Folgaran snarled as its attack power dropped back to its original score, while the three monsters that had been the bane of Voltaire's existence since the duel began returned to the wraith's deck as he drew a third card. _"Set three cards…end turn."_

VOLTAIRE: 2500 LP ADLEG: 3000 LP

Still sitting Voltaire slowly drew a card still too weak from the attack to get back to his feet. When he saw what he had drawn a small smile appeared on his face. "I was wondering when you'd finally decide to _grace _us with your presence, ready to bring this battle to a close?" A faint glow from the card was the only answer he needed. "I summon King of the Skull Servants in attack mode!" The shadows in front of him parted as the undead ruler rose up glowing as he gained strength from all of the vassals that had been discarded since the duel began (?-5000/0).

Turning the king looked down at Voltaire and extended a bony hand which the Shadowchaser took as he was pulled back to his feet. As their hands made contact some of the energy surrounding the King of Skull Servants transferred to Voltaire, the runes on his coat fading as the damage he had taken from Folgaran's attack was slowly recovered until finally he stood unaided. "Alright Adleg, I'd be lying if I said this hasn't been a challenge, but as I said before this duel started I cant afford to waste all night here, so its time to end this."

"From my hand I play two spell cards, first Dark Shuffle, selecting five Dark attribute monsters and placing them on top of my deck in any order, and then Take Over 5, allowing me to discard the top five cards of my deck to the graveyard."

Adleg's empty sockets blazed. _Useless gesture…facedown cards are…Aegis of Gaia…Prideful Roar and…Backdraft. Even if he discards…three more Skull monsters…its attack won't reach higher then…eight thousand. With Aegis…can raise life points…high enough to make Folgaran…even stronger. Then…when damage is done…Backdraft will inflict damage…equal to Folgaran's attack…I win._

As his deck finished shuffling Voltaire took the top five cards he had selected and held their back to the wraith, his eyes hidden behind the gleam of his glasses. He threw all five cards into the discard slot as King of Skull Servants attack score slowly began to grow, and grow, and grow. And just as Adleg's bony claw pressed the button to activate Aegis of Gaia the King's attack score rose _beyond _eight thousand (5000-10000/0). _"Not possible…only had three monsters…left that were compatible…with the King's effect!" _

"Not _quite, _the last two cards I discarded were copies of a zombie called Wightmare. Its a new addition to my deck designed to combat remove from play strategies, but more importantly it counts as 'Skull Servant' while in the graveyard." Voltaire looked the wraith square in the eye socket his expression grim. "You know what's going to happen the moment you lose this duel, if you have any last words you might as well say them now."

Adleg lowered his skull in silence. Then his shoulders moved up and down as he gave a rattling laugh. _"Doesn't matter…I'm finished either way…either you destroy me…or he will…nothing but a pawn… no last words…just end it." _

Voltaire sighed before nodding. "King of Skull Servants, attack Inferno Skull Beast Folgaran!" The undead ruler glowed with a green aura as Folgaran gave one last deafening scream, flames erupting from the pipes on its back as it refused to go down without a fight. At the peak of their power, the two monsters charged before their attacks collided in an explosion of such intensity that the entire Shadow Realm seemed to come apart at the seams.

VOLTAIRE: 2500 LP ADLEG: 0 LP

__

Outside the dome Lestrad had been cleaning his revolver when Baskerville picked his head up from where it had been resting and gave a bark that nearly blew out the inspector's left eardrum. "_Bloody hell! _I don't care if you really are part demon or just some overgrown mutt fresh off the streets, you give me a start like that again and I'll…" He stopped seeing Voltaire emerge from the rapidly vanishing shadows a tired expression on his face making him suddenly seem far older then his appearance would suggest.

"Voltaire? What in blazes happened in there? And where did that petticoat wearing pyromaniac run off to?" He asked. Instead of answering Voltaire sat down between him and Baskerville and held up a hand he had been holding in a closed fist. Loosening his fingers slightly Lestrad caught a glimpse of a tiny sphere, no bigger then an acorn, that glowed with a reddish orange light pulsing faintly. "The _devil…_?"

"Its Adleg's soul, inspector. Beneath all of the hatred, the rage, the overwhelming desire to destroy everything in his path that's kept him in this world since he died, some tiny piece of the man he once was still existed." Voltaire said softly, transfixed by the sight of the little sphere fluttering about in his hand, like a caged bird eager to take flight.

"A Shadow Game gives whoever calls upon it the power to decide the fate of the defeated foe. However unlike many who have used this power, I had no interest in inflicting any form of punishment." Voltaire held up the soul. "The moment I open my hand so much as an inch, all that remains of Adleg will be finally free to move on to the other side. Either eternal salvation…or eternal damnation, its fate is sealed. Hell of a sobering thought isn't it?"

The inspector sat there in silence trying to wrap his mind around the idea that the man sitting next to him was holding the immortal soul of a human being. "…Somehow I imagined my soul would look a bit more impressive then a Christmas tree light."

Voltaire went silent and lowered his head. When his shoulders started to shake for a terrible moment Lestrad thought he had pushed the poor lad to tears. Then the Shadowhcaser burst out laughing. He laughed for a good two minutes as the inspector and Baskerville exchanged looks of concern before Voltaire wiped a tear from his eye still laughing softly. "Oh inspector, you have quite a gift for bringing a touch of the mundane to even the most solemn moments."

The inspector gave a scoff at this nonetheless relieved that Voltaire seemed to be back to normal (or at least whatever passed for 'normal' in his situation). "Well one of us has to keep their head screwed on straight; if you go any further over the deep end you're going to need a life preserver and a rope. So what happens now? Do you have to eat it to fuel those unholy eldritch powers of yours?"

Voltaire gave the inspector an odd look. "Good grief man, what do you take me for? No I'm not going to _eat _it." Finally with a small sigh he opened his hand. Immediately Adleg's soul shot off into the air zipping about in a few directions before flying away. "His fate is out of my hands now; all we can hope for is that when he's guided to the other side he can find some small measure of peace."

"Right, well I don't know about you, but I've had enough of this philosophical claptrap for a lifetime," Lestrad said standing up and holstering his gun. "Now that the, ah, 'malevolent presence', has been dealt with, what say we give your mutt another chance to track our quarry's scent?"

"Claptrap? I emerge from an impenetrable realm of darkness with a living soul in the palm of my hand and that's your response? Dear me, probably for the best you became a police officer inspector, I imagine you'd make a terrible priest." Voltaire pulled out the warp stone and held it out for Baskerville. This time after taking a few deep sniffs he gave an excited bark and took off deeper into the forest apparently no longer hindered from picking up the scent. "YES! Were back in business inspector, come on before were both left in the dust!" The Shadowchaser said taking off after Baskerville.

Lestrad watched the two rapidly disappearing figures with a sweat drop running down his head. "Just how much running are we going to be doing tonight anyway? Oh never mind…_hold up damn it! You're still under police custody!_" He shouted running after them all the while wishing he hadn't been so quick to complain the previous evening about how much he needed to get a bit more exercise.

There was no indication any of them had noticed the figure that had been watching them the entire time. As it walked into the clearing all of the color sound and light around it seemed to drain away, sucked into the depths of a robe so black it could almost be described as an entirely different spectrum of the color.

The figure watched Voltaire and Lestrad depart before it shook its head. A sound emerged from the hood that covered its face that was either the wind rustling through the branches of the trees, or a very long drawn out sigh.

Then the figure spoke every word like falling slabs of granite. Had anyone been nearby they wouldn't have so much heard the words as suddenly find them in their heads. HOW HE TALKED ME INTO THIS I'LL NEVER KNOW.

Sensing something, it turned seeing Adleg's soul come flying back from the forest either out of curiosity, or instinct. AH, THERE YOU ARE. Holding out its arm the figure waited with glacial patience before it finally settled snugly into the palm of its hand. Then with a great deal of care the figure opened its robe and tucked the soul away. I SUPPOSE HE WAS RIGHT ABOUT ONE THING; THIS IS GOING TO BE A _VERY _BUSY NIGHT FOR US BOTH. Its task complete the figure vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

__

While I'm sure all of you have questions, like how Voltaire knows how to call upon a Shadow Game, or who his mysterious acquaintance is (though any Terry Pratchett fans in the audience will probably figure it out instantly) all I can say is the usual 'all will be revealed in time' shtick LOL Next chapter finds Voltaire and Lestrad are at Palethorn's front gates. Before they can get inside however, they must get past an army of fallen warriors, whose commander has long awaited the coming of a worthy foe. 'The Forceful Sentry' is coming soon. Until then, adieu!

CUSTOM CARDS

INFERNO SKULL

Level 3 Fire Attribute

Zombie/Effect

1000/800

Image: A black skull covered in flames flying at the camera screaming.

Text: This card's name is treated as 'Burning Skull Head' while in the hand or graveyard. When this card is special summoned inflict 800 points of damage to your opponent. If three copies of this card are in your graveyard you can shuffle them into your deck and draw one card.

SKULL FURNACE

Spell Card

Continuous

Image: A black iron furnace in the shape of a skull, with smoke and flames coming out of the eye sockets and a grill over the mouth.

Text: Once per turn you may special summon one 'Inferno Skull' from your deck to the field. When your opponent attacks you can send one face up Fire attribute Zombie to the graveyard to end the battle phase immediately.

INFERNO SKULL BEAST-FOLGARAN

Level 10 Fire Attribute

Zombie/Effect

2600/2000

Image: A bigger more feral Skull Flame covered in black iron with a furnace built into its chest and flames spewing from two rows of pipes down its back creating a burning mane.

Text: This card cannot be normal summoned or set. This card can only be special summoned by offering one face up 'Skull Flame' as a tribute. Once per turn you can discard up to three 'Burning Skull Heads' from your deck to the graveyard and inflict 500 points of damage to your opponent for each monster discarded, this monster cannot attack the turn this effect is used. Increase the attack of this card by 400 for every 'Burning Skull Head' in your graveyard.

NOTE: Folgaran was actually based on an earlier suggestion for Adleg's kill card made by MichaelDJ47 so he deserves much of the credit for the initial inspiration. Anyone who wishes to use the 'Inferno Skull Archetype' is more then welcome to ask provided they get my permission first.

SKULL CHEVALIER

Level 4 Dark Attribute

Zombie/Effect

1900/0

Image: A skeleton dressed in the outfit of a Musketeer, drawing a fencing blade and striking a dramatic pose.

Text: When this card successfully destroys a monster as a result of battle you can discard one level three or lower non-Tuner type Zombie to the graveyard so this card can attack again. If this effect is used this card cannot attack your opponent directly.

SKULL FORTUNE

Spell Card

Normal Type

Image: A vault piled high with gold and jewels with King of Skull Servants sitting on a throne in the middle.

Text: Draw one card for every 'Skull Servant' in your graveyard until your hand is at the maximum amount (cards that remove the restriction on the number of cards in your hand do not apply)

SUFFERING OF THE TRAVELER

Spell Card

Normal Type

Image: Infernity Death Gunman holding his pistol to the head of the man from 'Ordeal of the Traveler' who is obviously terrified.

Text: Call out a number of cards up to the number in your opponent's hand. If you call any of them right your opponent discards those cards from their hand. For every card you call that is not in their hand, you must discard a card at random and lose 1000 life points.

NOTE: Because it was featured in chapter one Dark Shuffle was not mentioned. However credit for it still goes to Ruin Queen of Oblivion as before.

CARDS FROM THE SHOW/MANGA

CARD OF LAST WILL

Trap Card

Normal Type

Image: A hand emerging from a plot of soil in front of a tombstone holding up five cards.

Text: Activate when one of your monsters is destroyed as a result of battle. Draw a number of cards from your deck until your hand has five cards total.

NOTE: Though this card first appeared in episode 91 'Mind Games- Part 2' of the original Yu-Gi-Oh series I used the effect of the version from the manga, which as it turned out is far better balanced then the one used in the show. Creative credit goes to both the makers of the manga and the show.

FIRE TRAP

Trap Card

Counter Type

Image: A knight in red armor bearing sword and shield as he stands in the center of a fiery whirlwind.

Text: Activate only when your opponent activates a card with an effect that would destroy face up spell or trap card(s) you control. Negate the activation and effect of that card and destroy it. When this card is destroyed by a card effect and sent to the graveyard, you can draw 1 card.

This card first appeared in GX episode 109 'Judai VS the Fiery O'Brien'. All creative credit goes to the makers of that episode.

AETONIX FLAME

Spell Card

Normal Type

Image: An unidentified fiend in the center of a firestorm with a blinding light at its core.

Text: Select 1 Fire or Fiend type monster in your graveyard. Destroy all non Fire non Fiend monsters your opponent controls and special summon that monster. You cannot conduct your battle phase this turn.

This card first appeared in episode 150 of the DOMA Arc 'Deja Duel! Part 2'. All creative credit goes to the creators of that episode.

BACKDRAFT

Trap Card

Counter Type

Image: A warrior being blown off his feet from an explosion with debris falling around him.

Text: Activate only when a Fire attribute monster you control inflicts battle damage to your opponent. Inflict damage to your opponent equal to its attack.

This card first appeared in chapter seven of the GX manga 'The Real Duelist'. All creative credit goes to the writers of that episode.

FLUTE OF HAMMELIN

Spell Card

Normal Type

Image: The Pied Piper, standing in front of a giant rat underneath a crescent moon.

Text: Select one of your monsters that was sent to the graveyard this turn. Both players must discard all monsters with the same name as the selected monster from their respective hands and decks.

This card first appeared in the GX episode 74 'Happily Ever After'. All creative credit goes to the makers of that episode.


	4. The Forceful Sentry

Shadowchasers: Dance Macabre

By Metal Overlord 2.0

Greetings everyone and welcome back to 'Shadowchasers: Dance Macabre'. Of all the chapters so far this one has probably gone through the most revisions I have ever done to date. Everything from the chapter's antagonist, to the method by which the duel was carried out to anything else you can think of was redone no less then four times. It was only reading a particularly memorable event in the new 5DS Manga that I was inspired with how the duel would eventually unfold as it does now. I hope you enjoy it and though it may be a bit overdue, happy new year!

A pale hand reached up from the darkness and grasped a nearby rock. After taking a few experimental pulls to assure his leverage Voltaire slowly pulled himself up and over the edge of the cliff amidst a string of breathless curses. "Ugh, to think…this sounded like such a simple plan…before I actually put it into practice." He groaned resting his forehead on the stone beneath him as he tried to catch his breath.

A warm moist tongue slapped against the side of his face knocking his hat aside making Voltaire give a sideways glance up from where he lay. Looming over him was Baskerville, wagging his tail eager to get going. "We can't all have demon ancestry to bolster our stamina you know."

"Excuse me," A familiar voice from below called accompanied by the sound of several clattering rocks. "But if its not too much trouble…_would someone help me up before I lose my bloody grip?_" Clinging to the side of the cliff was inspector Lestrad, his teeth clenched as he tried to force as many fingers as possible into the cracks along the mountain's edge his feet scrabbling for a purchase as a few more rocks gave way.

Getting up Voltaire and his hound peeked over the edge the former looking quite impressed. "Dear inspector will you ever cease to amaze, who would think that a man of your age could hold his own in a bit of mountain climbing, you sure you didn't miss your life's calling when you became a policeman?"

The sheer murderous rage in the inspector's eyes was so perfectly focused it would have made a Basilisk blink. "Voltaire, I _cannot stress _how tempted I am to let go of this ledge and risking falling to my death, simply so I'd have a hand free to shoot you." He snarled before he felt one of his feet swinging over nothing. "But I'm willing to refrain from hurting you if you'll just _HELP ME UP ALREADY!"_

Sensing the time for wise cracking was over (at least for the moment) Voltaire conceded to his duties and, with the help of Baskerville, reached down and hauled Lestrad up to join them on the plateau. "I'm getting too damn old for this rubbish," The inspector growled taking out a handkerchief and mopping his brow. "I thought you said that road would take us all the way up the mountain?"

Voltaire simply shrugged as he put his hat back twisting the brim this way and that until it was exactly to his liking. "I said it 'could' take us all the way, not 'would' there was no telling if the condition of the road would remain in useable condition after all these years. Nor if it would, as we discovered, collapse halfway up. Hence why I made sure we had a contingency plan in mind."

"Voltaire, scaling the side of a cliff without so much as a length of rope to keep us from being smeared across the ground like butter on toast is not a contingency plan. It is in fact, a last resort, and a half baked one at that." As was common with all canines Baskerville's understanding of human vocabulary was enough that the mention of food made his ears perk up his tail wagging in the hopes of an unexpected treat.

"True, but were a bit stretched for time so it was the best I could come up with on short notice. Yet here we are at our destination nonetheless." The Shadowchaser gestured to the enormous black medieval castle that now loomed before them. It was a monstrous testament to gothic architecture, ancient stone spires and parapets rearing up as if to pierce the stars above while all beneath it was consumed in shadow.

Lestrad regarded the massive structure without batting an eye. "Hmph, our kidnapper doesn't seem to stray too far from a good cliché does he? The only thing this eyesore's missing are bats in the belfry and a hunchback with a lisp and a bad leg waiting to meet us at the gate."

"Ah, but what it lacks in originality it makes up for in practicality," Voltaire replied. "Europe is littered with ancient castles and ruins left over from the dark ages. So unless they were at least somewhat in tune with the supernatural, nobody would see this as more then a photo op and an evening's worth of bragging rights at the pub." 

Lestrad shivered suddenly drawing his coat more tightly around himself. "Speaking of pubs I'd kill for a pint of hot brandy right about now, the weather seems to be taking a nasty turn."

Voltaire looked up at the castle ramparts his eyes narrowing behind his glasses. "That's not the weather your feeling inspector, it's the aura emanating from the castle, or to be more specifically from whatever is lurking within said castle. Remember how the forest was completely devoid of life?"

The inspector nodded recalling how Voltaire had mentioned wildlife being able to sense supernatural entities far more acutely then most humans. "If it's the same kind of aura how come I didn't feel like I was streaking through the streets of bloody Siberia?" He growled clenching his teeth to keep them from chattering.

"Probably because we were just on the outskirts of its territory, when an entity gives off an aura like this it works in the manner of a blaze; the closer you get to the source the greater the intensity. The irony is many describe the sensation as more akin to hypothermia. In my line of business we refer to areas where such phenomenon takes place as 'Chill Grills'."

"Cute," The inspector remarked before clearing his throat and gesturing to the reinforced gates barring entrance to the castle's interior. "Well get to it man, we don't have all night."

Voltaire turned and regarded the inspector with a puzzled tilt of his head. "Come again?"

Lestrad sighed holding the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Oh for the love of…look, we need to get into the castle and find out where whoever is behind all of this is keeping Alice right?"

"Last time I checked." The Shadowchaser said nodding slowly like a schoolchild who was pretending he understood a difficult math problem.

"Well if your really part of some, paramilitary peace keeping unit, don't you have special equipment to infiltrate fortified strongholds? Plastic explosives, grappling hooks, that sort of thing?"

Voltaire's expression turned mildly incredulous. "_Grappling hooks? _I'm sorry, but at what point did you come under the impression I was Batman? Besides don't you think I would have used that kind of equipment to help us scale the cliff?"

"A valid point I suppose, but where does that leave us then? This place is as much a fortress now as it was back when everyone was only just starting to grasp the idea of indoor plumbing. I mean its not like we can just clap our hands and go 'open sesame' to get that bridge to-"

Lestrad stopped dead his hands a foot apart in mid clap as the enormous drawbridge to the castle slowly began to descend. As the tortured shriek of the ancient mechanisms being forced into motion filled the air it finally came crashing down inches from where the inspector was still standing. "...Drop…down?"

Voltaire gave a chuckle patting Lestrad on the shoulder. "There you see? Problem solved, well let's get a move on, as you said we don't have all night." He stepped up onto the drawbridge and began to walk across with Baskerville trotting behind.

The inspector stood there for a moment staring at his seemingly ordinary hands. He gave them a quick clap, looked around to see if anything else happened, then shook his head and took off after Voltaire. "Now wait one moment, were just going to walk right in, just like that?"

"Is there a problem with that? As I recall you were just complaining over how difficult it was going to be to get inside." Voltaire said without missing a beat.

"Yes but for heaven's sakes man! There's a difference between reaching a solution to a problem and having it just fall into your bloody lap. Doesn't this strike you as just a _tad _suspicious?" The inspector said waving an arm in exasperation.

"Oh much more then a tad, however at the moment were in a situation with far too many unknown variables to play it safe. That said we can either A: Pretend to be every bit the hapless idiots our host seems to take us for, take the bait and be ready to salvage the situation if and when things go to hell in a hand basket."

"Or, we can go with B: in which we stand out here all night in the freezing cold exposed to attack from every angle bickering over an alternative means of entry that may not even exist, in which case well _really _look the part. See my point?"

The inspector paused at this his brow furrowing as he rubbed his chin trying to come up with an argument against this. Finally with a great deal of reluctance he sighed and nodded his head.

"Good man, besides I'm willing to bet any amount of money that long before we set foot inside our host will be sending us a welcoming committee," Voltaire said before he turned his head and stopped causing the inspector to nearly walk right into him. "Ah, speak of the devil…"

Emerging from the castle gates was a giant of a man, easily six and a half feet tall his every feature concealed beneath layers upon layers of gleaming black armor. He was riding a magnificent warhorse no less heavily armored and every bit as massive. Thick plumes of steam flared from nostril slits in its face plate, making it resemble less an animal and more of some primitive quadruped _tank_.

"So much for the hunchback theory, care to give me another crash course in demonology Voltaire?" The inspector said backing up and reaching for his revolver while Baskerville moved forward alongside the Shadowchaser baring his fangs with a growl.

"Right, let me see," Voltaire looked at the armored figure up and down. "Bit too big for a Living Masquerade, and its head is still attached so a Dullahan is out of the question, so if I had to guess I'd say…Death Knight?"

"Lovely, well now that we've established the title of said killing machine on horseback care to divulge any _useful _information?"

"Well, Death Knights usually are formed when the spirits of ancient warriors slain in battle are reanimated through necromancy. They retain all of their training and skill in a body that's stronger, faster, and impervious to non magical weaponry."

The inspector paused in the middle of drawing his revolver when he heard the bit about 'impervious to non magical weaponry'. "And I don't suppose that's a normal horse he's riding then either?

"Not likely, the mount of choice for an undead of that level is usually the Nightmare, a phantom beast from the rifts between dimensions known for their extraordinary speed."

"Which would mean trying to run away would just be a way for us to die tired." Lestrad said giving his gun one last wistful glance before returning it to its holster with a sigh.

"Considering our extremely limited room to maneuver as long as were on this bridge? Most likely, which is why it's all the more fortunate that I have a plan." The Shadowchaser said turning his head with a grin.

"Oh good, for a moment I thought we might be in trouble." The inspector said a dulled expression on his face.

The Death Knight crossed the drawbridge and pulled on the reins to his steed, the Nightmare snorting as it pulled to a stop. From deep within a T shaped slit in his horned helm a pair of glowing red eyes peered down at them a voice, deep resonant and oddly hollow, rumbling forth.

"I am Sir Blackborn, by order of my master, the lord of Gallowmere, entry to the castle is forbidden. State your business here and speak swiftly, lest my blade strike swifter still." As if to emphasize the wind shifted blowing his cape back to reveal the hilt of a hand and a half broadsword slung across his broad shoulder blades.

Without skipping a beat Voltaire gave Lestrad a wink, stepped forward and, reached into his coat. After a moment of rummaging he pulled out a small black book with the title 'New World Translation of the Holy Scriptures'.

"Good evening sir, were with Jehovah's Witnesses, is there something missing in your life?" He asked putting on his most charming smile. Behind him Lestrad struck his face with the palm of his hand while Baskerville covered his head with his paws.

The Death Knight's eyes vanished and reappeared as if blinking. "I know of no Jehovah, nor of any witness. All that I desire is the glory of forging mountains from the corpses and rivers from the blood of all who would defy my master."

Voltaire paused and looked down at the bible thoughtfully. "Hmm, sounds like I should have gone with the King James Edition." Tucking the bible back into his coat he leaned back to inspector Lestrad and lowered his voice.

"Our friend here strikes me as a little slow on the uptake; think if we come back in different outfits he'd still recognize us? I can do a mean door to door vacuum salesman in a pinch." He whispered behind one hand.

To be frank after tagging along this far Lestrad hadn't bothered to raise his hopes much for Voltaire's so called 'plan' to in any way resemble proper law enforcement procedure. Nonetheless it took every fiber of the inspector's being not to shoot him right then and there.

"Voltaire, the most polite thing I can say right now is, in terms of portraying a hapless idiot? You just earned yourself a standing ovation." Lestrad whispered back giving him a deadpan stare.

"Ah, good then its working, see, most of the time Death Knight's are as archaic in mindset as they are in fashion sense and political views. If I can throw him off guard by exploiting this, we might be able to get in a lucky hit. You see that rock lying over there?"

The inspector paused and glanced to the left where, sure enough there was a fairly large rock on the ground a few inches away. "Yes and its relevance would be?"

"If I can distract him a little more you can grab that rock, hurl it at Blackborn's head and, if Dame Fortune is kind enough to take pity on us, it might just hit him hard enough to knock him off his horse, buying us some time to get across the bridge and raise it up before he can come after us."

"…That's seriously the best you could come up with?"

Voltaire gave a small shrug. "Well it's better then 'scream and charge'. Remember what I said about being impervious to non magical weaponry? And before you ask yes, my sword is enchanted and no, I'm not going to try using it on Tin Man over there. He's got to have at least a couple hundred years more experience in close quarters combat then me."

As they discussed this Sir Blackborn's eyes fell to Voltaire's duel disk before narrowing in suspicion. "Mortal, that device you carry…that is a duel disk is it not?" He asked.

Giving the Death Knight a look of mild surprise Voltaire nodded. "That it is, and you would be familiar with this technology because…?"

"Word has it that a human using such a device recently disposed of one of our underlings in the forest below, a man with pale skin, unusual clothing, and accompanied by a mongrel and a member of the local law enforcement." The knight folded his arms over his chest his gaze now fixed solely on the Shadowchaser.

"What was that you said about him being 'a little slow on the uptake'?" Lestrad muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

"Wouldn't be the first time I've been wrong," Voltaire said rubbing the back of his head with a nervous laugh. "I suppose this is the part where you hack us to bits in retribution for defeating a comrade at arms in a card game?"

"On the contrary, I wish to see your skills in such a contest first hand."

There was a moment of silence as the Shadowchaser tilted his head slightly to one side. "I'm sorry?" There were certainly enough cases where an otherwise difficult to apprehend Shadowkind had submitted to settling matters via the Fair Fight Clause, but for rather obvious reasons Death Knights had never been among them.

"It has been ages since anyone has been bold enough to defy my master. Though duty compels me to see to your demise, such audacity intrigues me. Furthermore, seeing as how engaging you in proper combat would be disappointingly brief, given the difference between us in skill and strength, there may be some amusement to be had in giving you a sporting chance."

"Could you give us a moment?" The inspector asked pulling Voltaire off to the side. "Is there something in the water you people drink that makes everyone act like they're suffering brain damage?" Lestrad hissed under his breath. "He's got us dead to rights and now he's suddenly going to play by the rules on a _whim? _

"Inspector of the many rules Shadowchasers are taught to take to heart I've found only three to have ever been useful. Mind your manners, keep an open mind, and if someone offers you a fighting chance when you should be otherwise past tense _you damn well_ _take it!_"

Turning back to Blackborn Voltaire cleared his throat looking up at him with a cautious smile. "I accept your challenge; in fact I'll do you one better. I'll set up an appropriate arena for us to duel in, free of charge how does that sound?"

The Death Knight's helmet betrayed nothing yet the Shadowchaser got the sudden feeling he was smiling in a very nasty way. "Oh there's no need to trouble yourself, I already have the perfect destination in mind. Prepare yourself!"

The undead warrior's eyes suddenly began to glow far more fiercely then before the darkness around them flowing in from every direction and swallowing Voltaire, Lestrad, and even Baskerville whole.

When the shadows parted Lestrad looked around only to find that the castle, in fact the entire mountain range and landscape surrounding it, was gone. Instead he and the others were standing in the midst of a crumbling stone arena. It was fashioned vaguely in the nature of the Coliseums of ancient Rome but decorated with stone gargoyles and other fiendish motifs while a purplish miasma filled the sky above.

The inspector took in his new surroundings with a mixture of irritation and resignation. "So that's it then eh? He's gone and killed us and now I'm in hell for collaborating with a practitioner of black magic. You know, you try and do the right thing, you slip a few bills to the Salvation Army representative standing outside the shop on Christmas, and you waste every opportunity to sleep in on Sundays just to go to church. Then poof, one little slip up and it all goes down the drain."

"While I can understand your confusion inspector were not technically in hell," Voltaire said looking around with a troubled expression on his face. "But given the situation were not much better off; Sir Blackborn's pulled us into a Shadow Game."

"Shadow Game? You mean that bit of hocus pocus you used on that ghoul?" Lestrad asked emphasizing the 'hocus pocus' part with a waggling of his fingers. "Then what are you so worried about, you seemed to know what you were doing last time."

Voltaire pulled his hat over his eyes and gave a sigh. _'Ignorance is not bliss' my foot, Jalal had to have been dropped on his head at least once as a child to come up with that kind of rubbish. _"Inspector, when two gunslingers show up at high noon for a showdown which of them always has the advantage?"

"The one who draws their weapon first obviously, but I don't see what that has to do with…oh." He paused as it finally sank in.

"Mm-hmm, I was lucky last time, Adleg was unaware I could summon a Shadow Game nor do I think he could have been able to do it himself after both of his regenerations. But clearly our friend in not-so-shining armor is more capable of initiating such a contest, and since he beat me to the punch-"

"-Then the nature of the battle to come shall be as I see fit." Turning around they saw the Death Knight standing a few feet away still atop his armored steed. Voltaire noticed he was now sporting a duel disk that looked like it was built into his armor.

"The first rule of combat, never engage the enemy on their terms. You caught Adleg unaware but now the tables have turned. If you wish to ever again see the world of man you will face me here, and now, in a challenge of my own design."

Suddenly the Death Knight pulled back hard on the reigns forcing the Nightmare to rear up with an otherworldly shriek before its two front hooves came down with a heavy stomp of its armored hooves. Walls of black flame began to erupt from the stone floor winding around them until it came to resemble a…racing track?

"You seem perplexed, allow me to explain. This contest shall test both skill and speed; once the battle begins we will proceed along the course until the finish line is reached. Victory shall go to the one who either reaches the goal first, or prevails via the usual means of Duel Monsters. Do you understand?"

"Oh yes perfectly, that is except for the minor detail of how we have no means of transportation. Or are we to believe you expect us to follow someone riding a horse, let alone one of supernatural origin, on _foot?_"

Voltaire quietly coughed to get the inspector's attention. "Actually among the problems were facing at the moment inspector? Transportation may not be among them." He gestured to Baskerville who suddenly sat up a little straighter his tail wagging.

As the inspector watched Voltaire climbed up on top of the hell hound settling in between his shoulders his long legs dangling over both sides of Baskerville's neck. "Come on inspector there's room for one more." He called patting the space behind him.

"Oh no, your not roping me into this one Voltaire," Lestrad said keeping his feet firmly planted on the ground. "You can ride the dog, you can play card games with the undead, and you can hopscotch with the devil himself for all I care, but don't think you're going to drag _me _along with you."

"Oh so you'd rather wait for me to come back for you after a life or death struggle which I may not even survive, therefore running the risk of leaving you stranded in a realm filled with eldritch horrors from beyond time and space with no means of getting home?"

"…Right, scoot over then." The inspector climbed up behind Voltaire and, after a moment's hesitation settled for holding onto the other man muttering something under his breath. Blackborn moved to the beginning of the track with them following behind.

"What will be the starting signal then?" Voltaire asked. The undead warrior drew his sword and pointed it at an unlit brazier atop an elevated platform in the center of the arena.

"When the torch ignites, the duel begins. Any last words mortal?" Blackborn said as his mount pawed impatiently at the stones beneath its hooves tossing its head and snorting at Baskerville who answered back with a deep growl.

Pulling down the brim of his hat Voltaire gave a faint smirk. "Voltaire Amore."

"Hmm?" Blackborn turned to regard the Shadowchaser curiously. In the center of the arena the brazier began to smolder as the first few embers began to burn.

"A gentleman always gives his name to those he is about to defeat, thus I have given you mine, Voltaire Amore. Remember it." Looking up he stared into the Death Knight's eyes with a quiet but fierce resolve.

From Blackborn's hulking form came a low rumbling chuckle. "Strong words, but I have to wonder whether your actions will prove as such." By now the brazier was crackling plumes of smoke rising up as the air shimmered with mounting heat.

"Oh for pity's sake will you two stop grandstanding and get this over wiIIIEAAAGGHHHHH!" Around the time Lestrad started to say 'with' the brazier roared to life a column of black fire belching forth. As if launched by dual cannons both Voltaire and the Death Knight came roaring out onto the track both mounts moving at an incredible speed.

VOLTAIRE: 8000 LP SIR BLACKBORN: 8000 LP

"The first move is yours; show me your strength mortal!" Blackborn called back as he took the lead, his steed giving a shrill neigh as it took the first corner hard enough to draw sparks from the stone floor.

"Again with the dramatics," Voltaire sighed snapping six cards from the top of his deck. When he saw his opening hand he raised an eyebrow. _'Hmm, only one monster but with a little luck he'll be all I need'_. "Strength is all well and good but you'll forgive me if I go for a little subtlety. I set one monster and a facedown card for now." The images of the cards appeared next to Baskerville before vanishing as he came round the corner hot on Blackborn's heels.

"Be it subtlety or cowardice, your tactics will be no avail in the onslaught to come," The Death Knight said drawing a card. "First I play Dark Allure, in exchange for drawing two cards I must remove a Dark attribute monster from play hand or forfeit my hand." Blackborn drew two more times a card in his hand suddenly fading into mist.

"Now I summon a monster, to arms, Dusk Commander!" The monster that emerged from the portal was at first glance a dead ringer for Command Knight, the staple card of many a warrior deck, however this version was far more sinister in nature, her skin was pale her armor was a glossy black and her eyes burned with a cold fire (1200-1600/1900).

"Ooh a Dark Counterpart eh?" Voltaire leaned forward a bit and adjusted his glasses to get a better look the other hand keeping a firm grip in Baskerville's fur. "Cant say I have too many fond memories of Dark Armed Dragon but the rest of them seemed potent enough."

'_That's an understatement if I ever heard one' _Inspector Lestrad thought growing a bit nervous, and not just for the obvious reasons (like how his only means of getting back home rested with a man who dressed and acted like an asylum fugitive). _'Skull Servants are powerful when used right, but if this Reject of the Round Table does summon DAD I didn't see much in Voltaire's deck that could immediately counter it' _

"Dusk Commander carries with her the will of hell itself, bolstering the attack of all who serve the forces of darkness that stand alongside her. Now through the power of these two magic cards, The Allied Forces and Ties of the Brethren, I shall muster an army without equal!"

From somewhere in the distance came the ominous note of a war horn, banners depicting Palethorn's coat of arms (though neither Voltaire nor Lestrad were aware of it at the time) unfurled from the walls surrounding the arena. The flames surrounding her growing even more fiercely Dusk Commander raised her sword to the sky and shrieked as from the black flames emerged two identical copies, each one raising their blades as well (1200-3000/1900X3).

"Uh, well, at least we know he's not using Dark Armed Dragon if that spell's any indication." Voltaire said blinking in surprise in how quickly Blackborn had been able to assemble such a powerful force.

"Oh yes now all we have to deal with is at least three monsters with attack scores equal to a Blue Eyes White Dragon, none of which can be attacked and will grant any other Dark warrior he summons a _minimum _twenty two hundred additional attack points." The inspector remarked.

"Be thankful only one of my Dusk Commanders can attack, sunder his facedown card!" Blackborn commanded throwing a hand back in Voltaire's direction. Still burning with black fire the middle warrior let out another war cry as she brought her sword down splitting the hidden monster in half before it vanished.

"I activate my facedown card, Broken Blocker! When a defense position monster is destroyed whose defense is higher then its attack, I can special summon two more copies from my deck in face up defense position."

This time instead of a portal the center of the arena began to shake as the ground cracked and heaved. The brazier collapsed and amidst the dying embers two mammoth towers made of solid bone rose up to the sky (400/1500X2).

Immediately one of the Soul Absorbing Bone Towers glowed as a flurry of spirits swooped down and snatched two cards off of the top of Blackborn's deck. In retaliation he drew his sword and swiped at them but the severed pieces merely reconnected and cackled before they flew into his graveyard taking the cards with them.

"Nothing like a bit of irony eh? Just as were trying to storm your master's castle, now you're going to have to get past mine if you want to make any headway in this duel." Voltaire said giving a toothy grin.

The Death Knight gave a loathsome glare from beneath his helm before looking at a card in his hand depicting an eerily familiar warrior. _'If you knew of the power I will soon unleash you would not have such faith in your defenses.' _"I conclude my move with a facedown of my own. Make your move if you dare." He set another card on his disk leaving him with two remaining as his mount gained speed again.

VOLTAIRE: 8000 LP SIR BLACKBORN: 7000 LP

With a quick nudge of his feet to his sides Voltaire coaxed a bit more speed out of Baskerville as he drew his next card giving his current hand a scowl. _'Cards, cards everywhere and not one bloody monster to use them with!' _"I'll just set another facedown and call it a turn." He sighed as another card's image appeared.

Drawing a third card Blackborn wasted no time in activating his facedown card. "Through the power of Escape from the Dark Dimension the monster I banished to the void returns to the field, arise Armageddon Knight." There was a distortion in the air before a cutlass tore a rift from which emerged a gaunt warrior clad in rusty black armor with long greasy locks of hair trailing behind him (1400/1200).

"When summoned in any way Armageddon Knight allows me to discard a Dark attribute monster from my deck." A card ejected from his deck before he stuffed it into his graveyard as all four warrior's attack strength adjusted from the Knight's arrival (3000-3200/1900X3) (1400-3600/1200).

"Now by offering as many Dark attribute monsters I control as I wish, I can summon this to the field!" Armageddon Knight and the original Dusk Commander faded as an ominous rumble came from the miasma overhead. Bolts of black lightning came crashing down striking the arena all around them before the largest of all struck down with a deafening clap of thunder.

What emerged from the rubble was a hulking barbarian crackling with dark energy and wielding a two handed bastard sword as if it weighed no more then a feather. The brute glared down behind a fiendish iron mask before he threw back his head and roared in tandem with the storm (2800-4200/1400) (3200-2600/1900X2). "Behold…Gilford the Black."

Lestrad's eye almost tripled in size out of recognition of the card the monstrosity looming over the field was based on. "Voltaire? If you've been sitting on some ultra rare trump card up until now this would be an _excellent _time to top-deck it. Were not just up the creek; were halfway to the bloody ocean!"

"Duly noted inspector, unfortunately I'm running a little low on Winged Dragons of Ra at the moment so were going to have to do this the old fashioned way." Voltaire called over his shoulder not taking his eyes off of Blackborn's new monster as the electricity began to build around it.

'_If he destroys our defenses with that thing's effect I'll lose more then just four thousand two hundred points of damage, if Baskerville takes a hit that powerful we could be thrown from his back and at this speed we'd be dead in an instant! It all comes down to this…' _

"When Gilford the Black is summoned using only Dark attribute monsters, I can choose to destroy one card for each monster used for the tribute! Gilford, unleash the power of your Black Raigeki Blade!" Sir Blackborn shouted. Gilford absorbed the last of the dark lightning into his blade before drawing back his muscles bulging as he swung it with all his might creating a sickle shaped bolt of pitch black energy that coursed through the air.

The sickle of energy cleaved through the base of each tower as if they didn't even exist. For a few seconds there was no sign that anything had changed, then as a hairline crack appeared where the attack had struck the towers began to groan and sway before collapsing into a heap of broken bones which began to spill onto the track.

Voltaire couldn't help but cringe as he heard the brittle cracking of the bones as they were trampled beneath Baskerville's paws and the Nightmare's hooves. "Ugh, can't say I see that falling under the category of 'rest in peace'." He muttered.

"With all due respect Voltaire I'd be less concerned with the fate of the departed and more on how _were about to join them!" _The inspector shouted as Voltaire looked up in time to see Gilford the Black now looming over them. The dark warrior gave a fanged sneer behind his mask before his weapon came down with a two handed swing like a guillotine.

Just before the blade made contact a cloud of black mist burst from Voltaire's facedown card, concealing the entire area around Baskerville from sight Gilford's strike swinging at empty air. With a snarl Baskerville reappeared slamming his paws into the dark warrior's chest and knocking him over with the force of the impact. Then using his falling body like a springboard the hell hound leapt again hitting the track running while Gilford bellowed in pain as he struck the floor with a crash that shook the entire arena.

"HAH! Let me know how a face full of rock served at over sixty miles an hour tastes!" Voltaire shouted in glee, his life points registering as completely intact.

Behind him Lestrad had scrunched up his face his eyes shut tight in preparation for what seemed inevitable dismemberment. "Are we dead yet?" He asked cautiously peeking one eye open upon sensing all of his limbs remained present and accounted for.

"Far from it inspector, and we've got this little beauty to thank for it," Voltaire said gesturing to one of his facedown cards which was now active. "When an opponent's monster declares an attack Dark Mist allows me to negate it by sending a number of Dark monsters from my deck to the graveyard whose total levels equal that of said monster."

"And the best part is that effect isn't limited to once per turn unlike similar defensive cards like Scrap Iron Scarecrow so as long as I have enough monsters to discard Gilford the Black's as much dead weight as the rest of the monsters on your field." As Voltaire explained this he discarded a handful of monsters from his deck the mist retreating back into the artwork of his trap card.

Sir Blackborn's eyes narrowed from within his helm as he lashed the reins of his steed urging the Nightmare to widen the distance which Baskerville was trying to close once more as they turned another corner and came through a straightway section of the track. "You can only delay the inevitable for so long human. As long as my forces hold, I maintain the advantage. I end my turn."

Voltaire quickly drew a fifth card, sighing in relief as he saw what he had drawn. "About time I drew Card Destruction, my hand's been absolute rubbish since the duel started." Sir Blackborn wordlessly complied as both players sent their cards to the graveyard and drew an equal amount from their decks.

As the Shadowchaser discarded his hand Lestrad saw it had consisted of Suffering of the Traveler, Dark Shuffle, Flute of Hamelin and Sanctity of the Netherworld. _'He wasn't kidding. Thank god he drew Card Destruction when he did, save for a few well played traps he's scraped by the first few turns of this duel through mostly luck.'_

Looking at his new hand of four cards Voltaire gave a grin that nearly split his face. "Now that's more like it! Time for a Zombie duelist staple, Book of Life! Not only will I use it to revive a zombie from my graveyard, I'll remove that Necro Gardna you discarded with Armageddon Knight's effect as well."

The ghostly image of a warrior with shock white hair and a mask over his face emerged from Blackborn's disk before screaming as he dissolved into mist, which drifted around Baskerville as a new portal emerged in mid-air. What emerged was none other then Voltaire's strongest card, the King of Skull Servants.

"Your monster may carry the title of 'king', but without its vassals to draw strength from its power is nonexistent," The Death Knight's eyes widened in realization as the true purpose of Voltaire's last move were made apparent. "Wait, the cards you discarded for Dark Mist's effect-"

"Never underestimate the power of a long term strategy Blackborn. Nearly every card I use has more then one purpose and Dark Mist is no exception. Gilford the Black has eight stars, so that's three Skull Servants, two Kings, one Lady in Wight I discarded to the graveyard!" The skeleton hovered over the field cackling with glee as his attack power rose (?-5000/0).

"Oh but I'm not done by a long shot, next I play Forbidden Chalice. This spell card increases the attack of one monster on the field by four hundred, but strips them of their effects, and I think one of your Dusk Commanders looks a bit parched so bottoms up!"

A golden chalice appeared over the head of one of the Dusk Commanders and tipped over, the dark warrior giving a cry of shock as her fiery aura was doused Gilford and her sister groaning as they lost some of their power (2600-1800/1900) (2600-2200/1900) (4200-3800/1400).

"And now for the piece de resistance, I play two spell cards, Pride of the Weak and Wrath of the Skull King! When the latter is played my King can attack a number of times this turn equal to the highest level zombie in my graveyard up to level three, attack my king, and vanquish his dark army!" Voltaire commanded thrusting a hand forward.

The king flew through the air with a howl towards Gilford the Black, who answered with a battle cry swinging his sword. The undead ruler ducked underneath and thrust a bony hand against the warrior's chest before unleashing a point blank bolt of necromantic energy which erupted out from Gilford's back leaving a hole big enough to fit a cannonball. Gilford's red eyes bulged behind his mask before going glassy as he fell once more, dead before he even hit the ground.

With twin screams of rage the Dusk Commanders charged from either side even as their attack scores fell from Gilford's departure. The king blocked their blows with his arms and immediately launched a counterattack, first slashing at the Dusk Commander under the effect of Forbidden Chalice, and then turning to dispatch her sister.

Sir Blackborn cried out an armored glove reaching to his chest as the backlash from the king's assault took a massive chunk from his life points, his steed faltering just long enough for Baskerville to make one last push until both riders were now neck and neck.

"Now its time for a little good news bad news, the good news is in return for allowing my King to attack multiple times this turn all battle damage you receive is cut in half, otherwise your life points would be in the triple digits by now. Of course the bad news is that thanks to Pride of the Weak now that my King has destroyed one of your monsters I can draw two more cards."

The spell card glowed as two cards ejected from the top of Voltaire's deck which he added to his hand while he seemed to mull something over. "Though is that really bad news? I mean your opponent drawing more cards is certainly bad for _you_, but since _I'm_ the one who draws them wouldn't it be good news from my perspective?"

Lestrad sat in stunned silence as Voltaire gave this a bit more thought before he finally shrugged and ended his turn. '_How the devil can he be so scatter brained one moment and a bloody tactical genius the next? If he ever managed to find all his marbles a man like that could have made captain easily in the force.' _The inspector thought shaking his head.

VOLTAIRE: 8000 LP SIR BLACKBORN: 3000 LP

It was a long time before the Death Knight spoke again; he drew his next card in silence staring at Voltaire his helm masking any emotions save the glowing of his eyes. "I underestimated you…I never imagined your skill would be this great. I may have proposed this challenge seeking sport, but now that it is clear you pose a threat to my master, I shall crush you with _all my might!_" He roared.

"Oh dear, you know I've actually lost count of how many times I've heard the old 'I've only been fighting with such and such amount of my power' speech in this line of work..." Voltaire sighed watching as Blackborn quickly began to play cards from his hand.

"To begin my move I set two cards, and play Card of Demise, drawing until I hold five cards in my hand." Snapping the top five cards off of his deck the Death Knight quickly took the middle card and slapped it onto his tray. "And as fortune would have it one of the cards I drew was Mystical Space Typhoon, allowing me to rid the field of that accursed Dark Mist." A whirlwind emerged which built up speed before tearing down the track and snapping the card clean in half.

"Now there will be no defense from my next card, I summon one of the rarest warriors in Duel Monsters, an elusive creature known as Remnant of the Forgotten Legion." What emerged from the Death Knight's side of the field through the portal was no where near as large as Gilford the Black had been, in fact its appearance was far more modern then any other monster Blackborn had summoned thus far.

It was a humanoid figure dressed in jet black combat armor wearing a tattered coat. Its face was covered by a gas mask and combat helmet while lengths of chain which, upon closer inspection appeared to be made of battered dog tags, wrapped around its gauntlet covered arms.

"Remnant of the Forgotten Legion gains 200 attack points for every warrior in my graveyard plus the bonus from the Allied Forces. Among those you destroyed yourself I also discarded four more through both Card Destruction and the effect of your Bone Towers." Indeed as the phantom warrior stared emotionlessly at Voltaire's King through glowing red optic lenses its power slowly began to climb (1800-3600/1300).

"Hmm, I suppose this is the part where I'm supposed to boast how despite facing a monster I have never heard of nor seen before, that the advantage my King has in attack points ensures my safety? It didn't seem to work too well for you as I recall." Voltaire said looking over his glasses and giving Blackborn an odd look.

"Hmph, true enough," Blackborn conceded playing an equip spell. "But just as you found a means to topple Gilford the Black, so do I have the means to vanquish your King of the Skull Servants. I play the spell Necro Shot, a card that can only be used with warriors of the dark attribute." With a shriek a spindly legless demon flew down from the miasma above and perched on the Remnant's arm. Its body contorted and twisted as it took the form of an organic looking rifle.

Voltaire gave a deep scowl the moment he saw the equip card. "Lovely, now he'll be able to remove up to three monsters in my graveyard from play and dump another monster to _his_ graveyard on top of it. And I'm sure he's got at least one more Necro Gardna in his deck to use with it."

"Then what more is there to be said? Remnant, strip the King of his power and take revenge for your fallen comrades!" The Death Knight commanded. Hefting the rifle the spectral soldier fired off three rounds, King of the Skull Servant howling in pain as each blast tore a hole through him as a card ejected from Voltaire's graveyard.

Finally the once mighty ruler slumped in mid air barely able to keep aloft (5000-2000/0). Discarding the now empty rifle which promptly shattered the Remnant faded from view, even as Blackborn sent a monster from his deck to the discard pile.

The warrior suddenly reappeared behind the weakened king wrapping a length of the dog tag chains around his neck and then pulling tightly using it like a garrote. King of the Skull Servants thrashed as the chain grew tighter until finally with a loud crack the exposed vertebra was completely severed. The King's body went slack as his skull tumbled down the body crumbling to dust.

"You won't get rid of my King that easily! By removing either a Skull Servant or another King from my graveyard I can summon him back to the field." One of the two remaining Skull Servants was ejected from the discard slot as the King's body slowly reassembled giving the Remnant a loathsome glare (?-1000/0).

"Indeed, but the damage has been done; your king is but a shell of his former self and the gap between our life points has begun to shrink. Make your move quickly mortal, or the duel shall soon end one way or another."

VOLTAIRE: 6200 LP SIR BLACKBORN: 3000 LP

As he drew a card Voltaire looked ahead and swore realizing what the Death Knight meant. Up ahead, past the last two twists in the path, was the final stretch of the track before the course would end at the finish line, marked by two torches burning bright cerulean. _He's right, for all the progress I've made in the duel, if I cant get his life points to zero or find a way past him before we reach the finish line it wont matter.'_

Looking down the Shadowchaser could tell Baskerville couldn't keep this up forever, the strain of trying to keep up with Sir Blackborn's Nightmare steed was causing the hound's breathing to become harsher, his whole chest heaving with the effort. _'I have to end this quickly, I can't let Baskerville and Lestrad suffer for my weakness!' _

"First, I discard the Wightmare in my hand to return one of my removed from play Skull Servants to my graveyard, and then I discard the second Wightmare to play One for One, summoning my last King of the Skull Servants!" Throwing all three cards into his graveyard Voltaire watched as a second King appeared to join the first, both of them giving one another an admiring glance as their attack scores adjusted (?-4000/0X2).

"King of Skull Servants one and two, attack Remnant of the Forgotten Legion!" Voltaire bellowed thrusting his hand forward. As he had suspected, the first King's attack was blocked by the appearance of the spirit of Necro Gardna which flew towards Voltaire's monster the two engaging in a brief mid air struggle. Meanwhile the second King proceeded unhindered to blast the Remnant with a two handed stream of necromantic energy.

However rather then explode or cry out, the masked soldier's form blurred around the point where the blast struck, fading into wisps like a mirage, only to reform back into his original shape. Sir Blackborn gave a deep echoing laugh. "I admire your courage, even knowing the potential dangers my facedown cards posed you attacked without hesitation. Unfortunately Necro Gardna was not my only line of defense. When you destroyed Remnant my Warrior's Pride trap activated, returning him to the field."

The string of profanity Voltaire spat out at this was entirely in the Orc dialect, which to the inspector sounded more like the man was doing his best impression of an irate sow. _'He forgot to mention that it also makes Remnant immune to destruction via battle for the rest of this turn, so even if I had my Surprise Attack from the Dark in my hand, which of course I don't, I wouldn't be able to get past his monster for a direct attack until my next turn!'_

"Pride of the Weak goes into effect, once more I draw two cards," He growled drawing his cards quick enough to risk bending them in half. He gave them a glance and perked up a little. _'YES! If I can pull this off come my next turn, we might be able to put an end to this once and for all! I just have to pray we can survive whatever trick Blackborn might still have up his sleeve.' _"I choose to end my move at that." He said his grip on both Baskerville and his cards tightening as they took the first turn in the course.

VOLTAIRE: 6200 LP SIR BLACKBORN: 2600 LP

The Death Knight drew a third card, when he saw what he had drawn his eyes widened behind his helmet. "The time has come for my ultimate monster to rise again, and bring this duel to its conclusion; I play The Warrior Returning Alive, to bring Gilford the Black back to my hand to fight again!" The Remnant's attack power dropped a little as Blackborn retrieved the card the miasma around them giving another ominous rumble in anticipation.

"And now I call upon Remnant of the Forgotten Legion's final ability! If used as a tribute for the summoning of a Warrior type monster, I can remove from play up to four monsters of the same type from my graveyard, and have my Remnant count as an additional tribute for each one!" A Dusk Commander and a Dark General Freed were ejected from his disk as the phantom soldier suddenly split into three identical forms before vanishing at the same time.

With a crash of lightning the great barbarian warrior arose with a furious roar, more beast then man, eager to take revenge upon the one who had slain it only a few turns ago (2800-3000/1400). Three bolts of lightning crashed down vaporizing both Kings and Pride of the Weak, each time narrowly avoiding hitting Baskerville and his passengers as well.

"I have one final card to play, tremble before the power of the fabled blade, the mighty _Excalibur!_" Gilford drew back in shock as an exquisitely crafted sword appeared in the air in front of him, seeming to radiate an aura of warm purifying light even in the depths of the Shadow Realm. His hand poised to take it Gilford's expression behind his mask almost seemed to soften…

Then all at once his face twisted into a feral sneer as he seized the holy sword with both hands laughing in malevolent triumph as his dark aura crackled fiercely, as the sword was slowly stained jet black until it was completely corrupted his muscles bulging with unfathomable strength (2800X2+200=5800/1400).

"It is over mortals, if the full force of this direct attack does not kill you, the wounds you shall take once your slain hound dumps you onto the ground at this speed will. Gilford the Black, unleash your ultimate attack, _Black Raigeki Tempest!_" The Death Knight commanded. Gilford's new blade coursed with power before with a roar he thrust his blade into the air, hundreds of enormous black bolts of lightning coursed down from the sky, homing in on them at terrifying speed.

"Oh bugger…" Lestrad groaned bracing himself for his imminent demise yet again. Voltaire's eyes glinted behind his glasses as he suddenly drew his sword and hurled the blade, striking one of several small spires dotting the top of the arena with a precision that would have made the greatest artists in swordplay weep with envy.

Instead of crashing straight down on their heads the lightning bolts veered to the right following Voltaire's sword which acted as a conductor. The blade absorbed the storm channeling it into the stone the force causing an entire section of the arena to explode. Allowing himself to release the breath he had been holding Voltaire gave Sir Blackborn a faint smirk. "I'm sorry, you were saying?"

It was hard to tell who was more dumbstruck, inspector Lestrad, Gilford the Black, or Sir Blackborn. It was the first one who finally broke the stunned silence that followed. "Not that I'm looking a gift horse in the mouth mind you, but would you mind explaining what the _hell _just happened?"

"We might be in the Shadow Realm inspector, but not every law of physics and nature take a holiday here. Lightning, regardless of its source, will always be drawn to a conductor at the highest point of a location. I simply gave the tempest a far more 'attractive' target," Voltaire paused before he started to chuckle. "Sorry, I'd like to think avoiding certain death is grounds for at least one bad pun."

Turning to face Sir Blackborn Voltaire's expression grew more serious. "Of course that little display doesn't change the damage I just took, but you won't win this match on a mere technicality. This duel is over Blackborn, the moment you end your turn I win, and that's not me being arrogant, that's the cold hard fact of the matter."

For the first time since the duel had begun the Death Knight began to feel his confidence fading fast. _'Incredible…his skill in a Shadow Game is formidable enough, but to devise such a brilliant tactic in an instant, could he be telling the truth? No, it's a bluff, it has to be! And even if he does have some plan in store I have my own strategy prepared' _

Sir Blackborn looked at his facedown card and the last card in his hand. _'Excalibur would be destroyed if I drew a card next turn, but thanks to my Arms Hole, I wont need to, all I require is to use it to add my Big Bang Shot to my hand, and whatever monster he may summon to protect himself wont protect the rest of his life points from an attack. And, should he attempt to destroy Gilford, I have enough life points to pay for My Body as a Shield. And yet…'_

The Death Knight looked back locking eyes with Voltaire; there was something in his gaze that could not be denied. _'And yet this man…this, Shadowchaser, he gives off such confidence, even this is in some sense a gamble. But I cannot waver, I WILL not!' _"I end my turn; the final move is upon us!" He declared.

VOLTAIRE: 400 LP SIR BLACKBORN: 2600 LP

Finally both Baskerville and the Nightmare were upon the final stretch to the finish line, both steeds drawing upon everything they had as the end grew so tantalizingly near. Drawing his next card with lightning speed, Voltaire slapped down a monster onto his disk tray. "I summon Wightmare, in attack mode!" From the portal appeared a skeleton much like the King, only instead of a tattered robe this one was wearing a gentleman's attire and a powdered wig (300/200).

"I have one last card to play; I use the spell card…Creature Swap!" Sir Blackborn's eyes widened in shock as Gilford the Black and the Wightmare vanished before reappearing on the opposite side of the field. Realizing the situation was now all but lost Sir Blackborn bellowed in defiance lashing the reins of his steed as he tore hell for leather for the finish line, if he could just reach the end before the final blow was struck…

"Gilford the Black, _destroy Wightmare_!" Voltaire screamed at the top of his lungs. The barbarian flew forward and with one final swing of the tainted Excalibur, severed the skeleton in two. The shockwave from the attack built up momentum before, only yards before reaching the end of the track, Sir Blackborn howled as he and his steed were picked up and thrown bodily into the air before hitting the track with a crash.

VOLTAIRE: 400 LP SIR BLACKBORN: 0 LP

As Baskerville pulled to a stop Voltaire leapt from his back and ran to where Sir Blackborn and his steed had fallen, as the flaming tracks faded until the arena was as it had been in the beginning. It didn't look good, the Death Knight's armor was battered and cracked and a purplish mist was leaking out from the cracks. The Nightmare was still, its head at an unnatural angle; it had died instantly upon the impact.

"Blackborn…I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Voltaire said sadly kneeling down next to his opponent. "But you didn't give me any other choice. I had to-"

The Death Knight held up a hand the other clutching his chest. "Save your grief mortal. To die in service to my master, I do not regret such an end, nor do I regret our confrontation. Truly, I could not have wished for a greater opponent, to wage my final battle against." Blackborn wheezed his eyes slowly dimming behind his helmet.

"Voltaire!" The note of panic in the inspector's voice snapped the Shadowchaser from his place at the knight's side. From every direction a tide of pure flowing darkness was consuming the arena was creeping in, erasing everything in its path.

"The Shadow Realm hungers for a victim; it is time for me to accept my fate. You are free to go, face my master if you will but do not expect what little mercy I gave you from him." As he spoke a portal appeared next to where they were standing, showing Palethorn's castle on the other side. Quickly ushering the others through Voltaire turned and gave Sir Blackborn one last glance before he leapt through the portal which closed a heart beat later.

Slowly, Sir Blackborn dragged himself towards his fallen steed, refusing to abandon it, even in his final moments. Forcing himself into a sitting position against its side, he regarded the encroaching darkness in solemn resignation. "Voltaire…Amore…" He gave a very soft chuckle. "It seems you were wise…to give me your name…after all…" His eyes finally faded and vanished, as the darkness consumed him.

Meanwhile back in the human world the inspector was currently on his hands and knees giving thanks for clean air, solid ground and a distinct absence of dark otherworldly dimensions. "Oh thank you god, thank you thank you thank you thank you. I swear I'll never swipe change from the collection plate for one of Lady Wilkin's meat pies down the street ever again I promise."

"Goodness, sounds like she makes quite a pie to risk your immortal soul." The inspector whirled around in surprise seeing Voltaire stand there his arms folded across his chest with an eyebrow raised.

"I-um, that is to say…right, listen, if I can pretend that we didn't just wager our lives and god knows what else in some high speed card game death race, might you be willing not to mention that little slip of the tongue to anyone back in town? The missus would tan my hide something fierce." Lestrad asked pointing his fingers together.

Rather then answer him the Shadowchaser turned and looked out over the valley below his expression becoming distant. Sensing what was troubling him the inspector walked over until he was standing at his side. "You couldn't save him I take it?"

Voltaire shook his head. "It was never my call to make, his Shadow Game, his rules. I couldn't have done anything even if I wanted to," He sighed. "Another soul lost to the shadows, and I'm the only one who will remember him as anything other then a monster."

The inspector gave Voltaire a long sideways glance for a moment before he sighed. "Nobody can come away from being forced to take another's life without feeling regret Voltaire, it's when you _don't _that's the problem. Not a day goes by that I don't think back on times when I've been forced to draw my gun to take down a criminal that I don't wonder about the person I've just killed."

"It's always the same questions. How did they get this way? Where were their families, their loved ones when they needed them the most? Would they ever find out what happened? Will they ever forgive me if so? You spend a lot of nights lying in bed staring up at the ceiling asking yourself those very questions over and over. But as long as that little voice never goes silent, you never completely lose what it means to be human."

Voltaire looked at Lesrad in surprise; he would never have expected such support from the man who only a few hours ago had him under lock and key. Perhaps as the night's events unfolded he and the inspector were starting to see they weren't so different after all. A pressure against his arm made him turn seeing Baskerville nuzzling him with his head, his tail wagging. Seeing this he smiled and scratched the hound behind the ears.

"Thank you…both of you." He stood there in silence a moment longer before he took a deep breath and clapped his hands together. "Well, were not getting any younger, the 'lord of Gallowmere' and more importantly Alice are just beyond those gates. Let's not keep them waiting any longer."

Glad to see the man back to his usual self, the inspector nodded as he turned to follow after him. "Oh, sorry about you losing your sword by the way, I can't imagine a replacement will come cheap."

Voltaire paused in mid step as though only realizing something. "Hmm? Oh! Right, thank you inspector I almost forgot," He cleared his throat and made a strange hand gesture. "_Accio Gladius!_" In a flash of light his sword appeared in his hands none the worse for wear.

Noticing how far the inspector's eyebrows had lifted into his hairline he offered a quick explanation while sheathing his blade. "Retrieval spell, I could drop this thing into the middle of the Pacific and it would come back without a scratch."

Lestrad rubbed his chin at this giving the sword a thoughtful look as he and Baskerville followed Voltaire across the drawbridge. "Does it work on car keys?"

Another chapter completed! WAHOO! *Takes a moment to compose myself* Ahem, but yes I hope you all enjoyed this dreadfully overdue update, and I would like to stress how much I will appreciate any and all feedback my audience could spare. It's been a while since chapter three and I'm very eager to see if there are any suggestions you lot have as to areas to avoid, work on, or enjoy, as the story progresses. Next chapter Palethorn finally chooses to confront our heroes and before long Voltaire and the inspector will come face to face with what will possibly be the most nightmarish creature in the entire story in a battle of wits like no other! Until next time, adieu!

CUSTOM CARDS

Dusk Commander

Level 4 Dark Warrior/Effect

1200 Attack

1900 Defense

Text: Increase the attack of all face up Dark monsters you control by 400. As long as another face up Dark monster is on your side of the field this card cannot be selected as an attack target.

*This card was created by my friend and beta MichaelDJ54 and first appeared in Lux Nero's 'Shadowchasing Crossroads' all creative credit goes to him*

Gilford the Black

Level 8 Dark Warrior/Effect

2800 Attack

1400 Defense

Text: This card can be special summoned by offering as many Dark Attribute monsters on your side of the field as you wish for a tribute. If this card is summoned this way destroy one card on your opponent's field for each monster used as a tribute.

Wrath of the Skull King

Quick-play Spell Card

Image: King of the Skull Servants crushing the skull of an Archfiend Soldier and an Opticlops in each claw with Dark Ruler Ha Des drawing back in fear in the foreground.

Text: During your battle phase by selecting a level three or lower Zombie type monster in your graveyard a face up 'King of the Skull Servants' you control can attack a number of monsters this turn equal to the level of the selected monster. If this card is used all battle damage your opponent takes this turn is halved.

Remnant of the Forgotten Legion

Level 4 Dark Warrior Effect

1800 Attack

1300 Defense

Text: Increase the attack of this card by 200 for every Warrior monster in the controller's graveyard. This card cannot attack your opponent directly. If this card is used as a tribute for the summoning of a Warrior monster, you can remove up to four monsters from your graveyard to have this card be treated as that number of tributes in addition to itself.

ANIME/MANGA EXCLUSIVE CARDS

Ties of the Brethren

Normal Spell Card

Image: Three identical lizard men standing in a line with swords drawn.

Text: Pay 1000 life points. Select one face up level 4 monster you control and special summon two level 4 monsters from your hand or deck with the same type and attribute. Those monsters cannot attack or be used as a tribute.

*Ties of the Brethren was first used by Yugi Muto in 'The Final Duel-Part 1' from the original anime. All creative credit goes to the writers of that episode.*

Dark Mist

Continuous Trap Card

Image: A black swirling vortex of mist.

Text: Activate only when an opponent's monster declares an attack. During this turn you can send a number of Dark monsters whose Level is equal to the level of the attacking monster from your deck to negate the attack.

*Dark Mist was first used by Midori Hibiki in the chapter 'Angel of Darkness' from the GX Manga. All creative credit goes to the creators of that chapter*

Necro Shot

Equip Spell Card

Image: A legless spindly black winged demon glowing with a purple aura.

Text: Equip only to a Dark Warrior monster. During your Main Phase you can select 1 monster in your opponent's graveyard and remove it from play. If this effect is used three times destroy this card, then select 1 monster card in your deck and send it to the graveyard.

*Necro Shot was first used by Jaden Yuki in episodes 117-119 of the GX Manga. All creative credit goes to the creators of those episodes.*

Excalibur

Equip Spell Card

Image: A majestic blade with a blue handle shining with light.

Text: Double the equipped monster's original attack. You can skip your Draw Phase each turn. If you draw a card(s), destroy this card.

*Excalibur was first used by Yami Yugi in the episode 'Reliving the Past' from the original anime. All creative credit goes to the makers of that episode*


	5. Bark of Dark Ruler

Shadowchasers Dance Macabre

By Metal Overlord 2.0

_Heh, hello everyone, say remember back when I said that the previous chapter was put through the most revisions I've ever done in a story? *Puts on a pair of sunglasses and does my best impression of Arnold Schwarzenegger* I lied. But in all seriousness I DO probably owe you guys an apology. This chapter was intended to reinforce the core plot elements of this story, so a LOT of work was put into seeing how to make everything turn out satisfactory._

_In fact, if not for the much appreciated suggestions made by fellow authors Lux Nero and MichaelDJ (bless their hearts respectively) I doubt this chapter would have been posted anytime soon. Instead, I have decided to take my original plans for this chapter and divide them into two separate chapters. Now I will say upright that there won't be a duel in this or the next chapter, and compared to my last few chaps this is a few pages shorter then normal, but on the plus side I think I did well enough in other areas to make things just as entertaining as always. Thanks for sticking around as long as you have, and enjoy._

With one well placed kick the door came crashing open as inspector Lestrad charged in gun drawn. _"THIS IS THE POLICE! Everyone on the ground now with your hands on your head! You are all under arrest for kidnapping and attempted murder of an officer!" _As the adrenaline rush left Lestrad noticed for the first time that the entrance hall they were in was completely empty.

"Excellent enthusiasm inspector, but unless you plan to bring in a few dust bunnies for questioning we seem to be a little short handed on suspects." Voltaire noted following him through the door with Baskerville close behind. He took a moment to take in the décor, the entrance chamber consisting of a circular room with two staircases leading up to a second floor with a series of doors, obviously leading to different sections of the castle.

Turning red in the face Lestrad quickly holstered his gun feeling more then a little embarrassed. "First chance I have all night to do my job and I end up barking orders to shadows and cobwebs, unbelievable. It's all this occult business you know, got me as tense as a horse's ass during fly season."

"Thank you for that charming mental image, speaking of which might I draw your attention to our host's taste in décor?" The Shadowchaser gestured to a series of paintings wrapping around the walls of the lower chamber. They seemed to be depicting Palethorn's conquest of a medieval kingdom going in chronological order, the first painting showing him leading an army of fiendish winged creatures into battle against an army of knights under a moonlit sky.

The next one was rather ghoulish in how the artist had deemed it necessary to elaborate on how the mortal warriors had been systematically slaughtered and drained of blood, with Palethorn standing in the middle laughing in triumph. In the next painting the fiend was in the midst of a castle courtyard atop a black war horse reared up on its hind legs. In his hand he was holding the severed heads of a man, woman and a young boy (presumably the royal family of the kingdom) by their scalps to the terrified peasants.

The paintings went on in detail showing how apparently Palethorn had gone on to massacre half of the kingdom's populace while the rest were forced into slavery, with gruesome examples being made out of any who resisted. The final painting showed Palethorn and his hordes, marching out of the kingdom as it burned with hundreds of corpses still impaled upon their spears, blood dripping down into the waiting mouths below like scarlet rain.

"Good god, makes your stomach turn just looking at it doesn't it?" The inspector balked, there was something in the artist's gleeful attention to detail no matter how gruesome the events that unfolded, particularly the startling contrast of the bright red blood to the rest of the paintings which had been done in much darker shades of paint, that made him just a touch queasy.

Rather then reply, Voltaire turned his head looking around the room with a troubled expression. From the moment they had stepped through the threshold he thought he had begun to hear…voices? Soft but insistent, they seemed to fade in and out of the range of his hearing like a poorly tuned radio signal.

"…_elp us…please help us…he's…"_

"…_on't understand…where am I…who am I? I can't remember…"_

"…_Can't hold on…it's all slipping away…nothing but darkness…"_

"…_et out…for god's sake get out…while you still ca-"_

"Voltaire?"

Shaking his head as though waking from a dream Voltaire noticed the inspector was giving him an odd look. "Hmm? Oh, yes, it certainly seems to capture the…inherent savagery of man, yes." He mumbled inserting his right pointer finger in his ear and rotating it a few times.

"As much of a begrudging respect I find myself developing for your methods, would you nonetheless mind waiting until _after _were out of harm's way before losing what's left of your marbles?" Lestrad asked with a dulled expression on his face.

Being far more accustomed to his master's behavior, Baskerville merely gave an indifferent snuffle before choosing to use the opportunity to attend to an itch behind his left ear. The inspector caught a glimpse of something scuttling through a patch of the hound's fur that no comb, shampoo or collar could ever hope to vanquish without the blessings of an exorcist.

Lestrad shuddered making a mental note to burn his uniform as soon as he got back home. Turning his attention elsewhere he found himself looking at the man prevalent in each and every painting. "Think our kidnapper is somehow related to this bugger? I've seen the type before; some brat learns he's the descendant of a penny-ante tyrant, next thing you know he's rounded up a posse and starts knocking down doors demanding seven generations of back taxes."

"It's certainly a plausible theory, if a bit grounded in mundane reasoning," Voltaire conceded rubbing his chin as he gave the paintings a closer look. "But given the circumstances we can't completely rule out that the current owner of this castle and the man portrayed here aren't in fact one and the same. There are many catalogued species of Shadow whose lives outlast that of your average human, often by several hundreds of years."

"A span of time which, for me, amounts to no more then the blink of an eye," Quickly turning around the two men were greeted by the sight of Palethorn himself standing at the top of the staircase. "I have seen the rise and fall of civilizations. Be it emperor, peasant, warlord or priest, none have been spared my everlasting hunger. Yet now on the eve of my greatest triumph, my sole opposition amounts to this?" He looked down at them before turning his head with a sniff of disdain. "This is bad comedy."

"Better break out the skillet and eggs inspector, incoming ham at twelve o' clock," Voltaire muttered out of the corner of his mouth to Lestrad who could only nod in agreement. "So am I to understand you're this 'Lord of Gallowmere' we keep hearing so much about? And how should I address you then, hmm? Mr. Lord? Mr. Gallowmere? Mr. Lord O. Gallowmere?" He asked his hands in his pockets as he tilted his head to the side looking up at their host with a cheeky grin.

Palethorn's expression might as well have been set in stone. "Count Ivan Palethorn will suffice, and you would do well to mind yourself boy; it is only my curiosity as to what manner of human could vanquish no less then three of my servants in the course of one night that prolongs the beating of your heart."

Voltaire's eyebrows shot up behind his glasses giving a low whistle. "_Really _now? Goodness gracious Ivan Palethorn in the clammy gray flesh and here I am without my autograph book! I mean seriously, if I knew I was going to be arresting a celebrity I would have dressed for the occasion."

"You mean you've actually heard of this blue blood twit?" Lestrad asked looking rather surprised. On the other hand there couldn't be _that _many people running around whose last name sounded like the title of a paperback erotic novel.

"Oh yes," Voltaire said never breaking eye contact with the man standing at the top of the stairs. "Or at least enough to know that the chances of this fellow being who he claims to be are about the same as Jalal asking for an Ophidia's hand in marriage," Having to remind himself that the inspector had likely not even heard of an Ophidia he quickly added. "That would be somewhere between slim and none for those of you taking notes."

One of Palethorn's eyebrows arched in the first display of emotion he had shown so far. "Jalal…as in Jalal Stormbringer? Ah then you are a Shadowchaser, yes that would certainly explain a great deal. If nothing else you lot have inherited much of your master's determination, albeit more so his stupidity."

"So tell me Shadowchaser, what proof do you have that I am an imposter, and not in fact the true lord and master of this domain and soon all that lies beyond? I'm curious to see just how much independent thought a servant of that mewling mongrel spawn of a peasant whore is capable of on his own."

As he opened his mouth to speak Voltaire paused as something suddenly came to him. "One moment please," He said holding up a finger before rummaging through his coat and pulling out a small notebook. Licking his thumb he flicked it open and started to skim through the pages muttering under his breath.

"Let's see…'archaic narrow minded tyrant' (what politician isn't these days), 'prejudice driven borderline sociopath' (again, this is supposed to be an insult?), 'sexually ambiguous closet cross dresser' (I suppose wearing the flayed skin of a member of the opposite sex does smack a touch of 'Silence of the Lambs')…ah here we are, 'mewling mongrel spawn of a peasant whore'."

As everyone watched he pulled out a pen and scribbled something in before closing the notebook with a snap. "Congratulations you are the eight hundred and forty third person to address my employer by said insult. And wouldn't you know it I don't give anymore of a hag's left tit now then I did the previous eight hundred and forty two times."

"Anyway in terms of evidence as to how your claim to be Ivan Palethorn has more holes then a piece of Swiss cheese at a shooting gallery, I suppose you could take into account the three hundred plus hand written accounts kept under lock and key in the Shadowchaser grand archives, chronicling how Ivan Palethorn was slain in battle by an army of Knight Templar during the final stretch of the Great War."

"_But _what would they know? I mean were only talking about members of an ancient order of elite battle hardened warriors force ready to lay down their lives at a moment's notice in unshakable dedication to their faith, its not like they'd sooner fall on their swords then lie about slaying a being of your supernatural weight class in the name of the lord almighty now is it?" The young man's tone didn't so much drip sarcasm as pour it all over the floor.

Palethorn stared at Voltaire in silence for a moment before he broke into a cold haughty laugh that seemed to shake the entire castle to its very foundation. "Elite battle hardened warriors? Oh now _that _is a charitable description if I ever heard one! Why is it that anytime a few witless bipedal apes gather around a specific tribal fetish and pick up some sharp rocks you suddenly think your some grand envoy of the gods?"

"If anything allowed your ancestors' to prevail in the Great War it was the same ability to spawn in rapid numbers humans share with every other breed of vermin. A roach may be a nuisance in great numbers, but individually it makes no difference whether they believe in a higher power or not, they're still crushed just as easily under one's heel."

"Oh gods, it's the old 'I can lift cars over my head and dodge bullets so I'm better then everyone else' routine," Voltaire sighed pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. "You _are _remembering how said 'witless bipedal apes' left your race listed next to the Panda bears on the endangered species list right? Or did you develop short term memory loss following your miraculous escape from certain destruction?"

The webbed talons on each of Palethorn's shoulders cracked and flexed in a disturbingly organic nature as he shrugged. "Yet I stand before you, the last surviving member of the Grand Generals perhaps, but a Grand General all the same, and through my sole existence my kind not only live, but stand poised to rise again, more powerful then ever before."

"So you see human, our defeat in the Great War, and every other victory humanity has had against us will always come to nothing, because while you will have to prevail in every single conflict in order to survive, we need only achieve victory _once._"

Reaching over he wrapped his hand around the staircase's left railing and, with a simple flick of his wrist, tore the entire banister halfway up from its support wrenching off a foot long chunk of solid wood in his hand. "See this? This is the kind of strength you humans can only _dream _of, yet it's not even one percent of the full power I have at my disposal. And it is because of this power that we shall always rise again, no matter how hard you try to destroy us. We have long since conquered death, no; we have _become _death, the death of all who would oppose our undisputed reign as lords of Shadowkind and human al-"

The loud report of the inspector's revolver cut off Palethorn in mid tirade as all eyes turned to where Lestrad was now casually reloaded his weapon and giving the cylinder a quick spin smoke still rising from the barrel. "Got everyone's attention then? Good, because I've already got enough of a headache dealing with _one _long winded film noir reject with delusions of grandeur to add another one to the pile."

"So before either one of you can start up another two hour verbal pissing match I'd like to bring something to our host's attention," He said pulling something out of his coat and holding it up for Palethorn to examine more closely.

"See this badge? Notice how it says 'Gallowmere Police Department' in nice bold lettering? Now I don't know how things work where you come from 'count', but in my neck of the woods when you see someone holding a badge like this, it should become top priority for you to stop flapping your gums and start bloody well listening to the person holding the badge."

"The way I see it you have two options as of right now. Option number one is, you can do the smart thing, let Alice go and turn yourself in along with any and all present accomplices to the charges your facing which includes attempted murder, kidnapping, and heaven knows what else regarding all this black magic business. Comply in this fashion and I'll see to it you can share a padded cell with _this _wacko so you can have all the time in the world to chat about half-dragons, vampires and whatever else passes for the norm for you people."

"Option two on the other hand, is you continue to stand there in that Transylvanian getup spouting more Machiavellian tripe then a theater troupe. At least until I lose what's left of my patience, come flying up those steps and shove my foot so far up your ass you'll spend the next three days coughing up shoelaces. Either way, your coming with me so the only question is," The inspector hitched up his belt and cracked his knuckles. "How ugly do you want this to get?"

The sound of splintering wood drew his and Voltaire's gaze to the piece of broken railing still in Palethorn's hand. Using nothing more then his thumb and individual fingers, the vampire began to crush the solid wood beam into a smaller and smaller size within the palm of his hand as his face seemed to shut down the smoldering of his eyes suggesting intense contemplation.

With the efficiency of a computer program Palethorn began to run through countless scenarios, each one putting our heroes through a different form of torture/mutilation played out in gruesome detail before moving on to the next one. All the while his right hand continued to pulverize what little remained of the railing in a manner bizarrely reminiscent of watching someone use a massage ball.

Then as Palethorn gave one final vice-like clench of his fist he blinked. Slowly a crocodilian smile crept across his face as the horrid machinations of his mind reached a simple, but profitable solution. While in most cases the traditional symbol of inspiration would be the image of a light bulb being switched on, in this case it was more like watching a lit match make contact with a prisoner soaked in kerosene.

"_LAWRENCE!" _

"You bellowed, sir?"

With perfect synchronization, Voltaire, Lestrad and Baskerville (who had been considerably on edge all this time) nearly jumped out of their skin/fur before they whirled around weapons drawn, leaving Palethorn's butler with a sword at his throat, a gun pressed to his forehead and an enormous pair of fangs poised inches away from an area all men hold dear in its contribution to procreation.

"I see we have guests, would you gentlemen like me to take your coats, or am I to understand I am to be making no sudden movements at this time?" Lawrence said dryly his tired expression never changing as his gaze flicked up at the broken banister. "Ah, another instance of self-destructive home décor sir? I shall arrange for a carpenter to take care of that immediately."

"Sadly, our…guests won't be staying long enough to enjoy such hospitality Lawrence," Palethorn said opening his hand dusting the near microscopic wood shavings from his cloak. "Though they _have _presented me with an ideal opportunity to bring my bride around to my way of thinking, would you be so kind as to fetch her for me?"

"I swoon at the honor of serving you sir, excuse me." There was no puff of smoke, no shimmering in the air, nothing whatsoever to suggest locomotion of any kind. One minute he was standing there and the next he was simply…gone.

Lestrad lowered his gun as he stared at the spot Lawrence had been only a second ago. "Now who or _what _the hell was that?" The inspector had seen criminals pull off some fairly impressive tricks to attempt to evade capture, but outright disappearing into thin air was a new one for him.

It didn't do much for his confidence to see Voltaire reach under his hat to scratch his head, appearing to be just as puzzled. "I have no idea; usually Shadows tend to give off at least some amount of supernatural energy, even if it only amounts to background radiation. But with that one, it was like he wasn't even there."

"So now were both out of our element, lovely," The inspector muttered looking back at Palethorn who merely stared down at them with a predatory smile. "Somehow our host doesn't seem to strike me as the type to negotiate with the lower class. That said any chance he means to give up peacefully?"

"Oh _gods _what I wouldn't give for it to be that easy," Voltaire said wistfully. "An open shut case, a minimum of paperwork, and the rest of the evening to curl up with a hot cup of Earl Grey and a paperback fresh off the best seller list of the New York Times," He gave a low groan of lust before coming back down to Earth and sighing

"Alas, the real world is rarely so cooperative; in this case I'd say Palethorn intends to break Alice's spirit by having her watch as we perish in some overly elaborate death trap. Experience suggests something involving breakaway floor panels, wall mounted spikes, and/or boiling tar or some other high temperature caustic substance poured over us from overhead."

"Now that sounds a bit more like it given how our luck has turned out so far," The inspector sighed before both men turned hearing one of the doorways on the upper floor open. Lawrence appeared followed by Alice, still dressed in the low cut gothic ensemble and flanked on each side by a halberd wielding suit of armor.

"Apologies for the delay sir, Lady Flaversham was found attempting to climb out one of the windows in the guest chamber with a rope tied together out of bed sheets. You may be interested in knowing one of the hand crafted stained glass murals is currently lying in several hundred pieces outside along the castle perimeter…as well as that Ming vase that was presented to you as a gift by the House of the Creeping Night." The quiet underlying tone of approval in the butler's tone suggested this was more a cause for celebration then anguish.

Clucking his tongue, Palethorn walked over until he was in front of Alice lifting up her chin in his hand. "Again you squander my hospitality? How many times must you repeat such foolish attempts at escape before you realize you are exactly where you belong, right here at my side?" He murmured.

Clearly Alice had attended the same academy for death glares at the inspector; you'd have thought she was trying to drill a hole through Palethorn's skull. "Until I've cost you everything of value and then some you vile repulsive piece of sh-" She paused in mid obscenity as she saw the inspector. The scowl abruptly vanished and was replaced by an expression of such joy and relief that her face lit up like a Christmas tree during a power surge. _"Uncle Percy!" _

You could hear Voltaire's vertebrae snap the way his head suddenly twisted around ninety degrees to stare bug eyed at Lestrad. _"What _did she just call you?" On the list of possible ways for Alice to have identified the inspector, 'Uncle Percy' had been somewhere between 'Santa Claus' and 'Winston Churchill'.

"_Really _not the time for this," Lestrad hissed under his breath. "Just, just hang on Alice everything's going to be alright. Are you alright? Have you been injured in anyway?" Though the rather distressing amount of skin revealed by her dress suggested otherwise, the thought of this fiend plucking so much as a hair on her head made his trigger finger spasm.

"You mean other then the wounds to my pride being paraded about in this getup? No everything's coming up roses," Alice sighed lowering her head in embarrassment. "Just as well father didn't insist on coming with you, I can only imagine the fit he'd have if he saw me like this."

"I'll have you know that dress was once the height of Elizabethan fashion woman, and you'd do well to be more thankful for such a luxury considering the uncouth treatment you continue to exhibit towards myself and my property," Palethorn said a touch of irritation creeping into his voice.

"Oh and that's supposed to make me feel like I'm not some trophy concubine to you is that it? You couldn't care less if I wear a potato sack, if even _that_ much, so long as you would have me follow you around on all fours at your beck and call like a mangy flea bitten mutt!" She snapped.

"_OY! _A little consideration for present company Ms. Flasversham, some of us rather resemble that remark." Voltaire said looking positively aghast as he reached up to clap his hands over Baskerville's ears, presumably to shield him from such vicious slander.

Alice did a double take at this only just noticing Voltaire was there as well. "Oh! I know you, you're the creepy man father tried to shoot for breaking into my bedroom, what on earth are you doing here?" She asked quite surprised to see him standing upright and devoid of bullet holes.

"'The creepy man father tried to shoot' she calls me," Voltaire muttered under his breath before raising his voice. "Oh don't mind me, I'm merely here to assist your," He gave a slight snicker. "Uncle Percy, on a matter of police business, you can be rest assured however, he has me on a _very _tight leash."

Lestrad frowned, but not because of Voltaire's reaction to his pet name. Rather he had only just started to notice the little alarm bells in the back of his head that had started going off the moment Alice had entered the room. "Voltaire, not to tempt fate but did you by any chance happen to notice the resemblance between the suits of armor guarding Alice and the ones-"

There was a snap of Palethorn's fingers as twenty pairs of armored boots came clomping into motion, followed by the sound of ten swords being drawn simultaneously from their sheaths.

"-Strategically located all around us as we enter the main hall as to cut off any and all possible avenues of escape? Yes I suppose the thought did cross my mind at some point." Voltaire said as he crossed his eyes to look at the blade now a quarter of an inch away from his face.

Baskerville bore his fangs and made a motion as to attack before the Shadowchaser motioned for him to stand down. There were too many of them to guarantee the hound would be able to reach them before one of the suits slit a throat or pierced a vital organ.

"Call it cliché if you'd like, but I have yet to find a more effective means of removing any and all thoughts of rebellion then making an example out of those one holds closest to themselves." Palethorn said as the suits on either side of Alice crossed their pikes to prevent her from attempting to intervene.

"Rest assured however, if their death's are not enough to ensure your compliance, we have an entire village's worth of men, women and children ready to share their fate. So ask yourself my dear: how many ties to everything you know and love must I sever before you finally submit to my wishes?"

"Because of course nothing is more romantic to a woman then when a man not only spirits her away against her will, but threatens to kill their friends and family at the drop of a hat should she get out of line," Alice snarled. "And you wonder why you're still single?"

Voltaire have a loud snort of laughter at this despite being moments away from finding out what it feels like to be a pin cushion.

"Which, I suppose, brings me back to you two," Palethorn said turning to look down at them with imperious contempt. "While I doubt these constructs possess the capabilities to ensure your deaths are excruciating enough to atone for the indignities you have dealt me this night, I find myself _quite_ eager to see them make the attempt. On that note, any last words?"

Voltaire exchanged a look with the inspector who merely shrugged, not seeing how allowing the Shadowchaser to mouth off one last time would really make the situation any worse then it already was. "Cant say anything other then 'piss off you stuck up little ass wipe' comes to mind, what about you?"

"Well personally I'm torn between 'if you strike me down, I shall become more powerful then you can possibly imagine' and 'you can take our lives but you can never take our freedom' but I think instead I'll go with simply expressing how glad I am to die in a place that has such atmosphere."

"I mean there's really nothing like an authentic vampire's castle for that classic macabre charm. There's the cobweb infested corridors, the rusty squeaky door hinges, the dribbling candlesticks, and of course my _personal _favorite-" The next five seconds were a blur to everyone except for the Shadowchaser at the center of the chaos like the eye of a storm.

There was the inspector's protest as Voltaire reached into his coat and pulled out his revolver, the loud crack of a single round fired at the ceiling, and a second later an earth shaking crash as two tons of iron and wax came down from the ceiling hard enough to knock most of the paintings off of the walls and force everyone to their knees.

"-Conveniently placed ornate candelabra hanging precariously overhead by means of an easily spotted rope counterweight my _GOD _I love a good cliché!" Voltaire crowed looking incredibly pleased with himself as he stood next to the inspector in the middle of a ring of metal that had been the only thing sparing them from sharing the fate of their captives, who now resembled so many flattened beer cans.

Lestrad stared at the devastation in silence wondering if he should even bother to ask how in blazes that had actually worked. Finally he held out his hand for his revolver with a sigh. "Tell me something, if I cited you right now for reckless endangerment, theft and use of an officer's weapon, would you even care?"

To his credit Voltaire looked genuinely hurt as he returned the inspector's gun. "Why inspector of _course _I would care, I just don't have the time to be put in handcuffs and read my Miranda Rights that's all. Besides, I'd like to think I'm the lesser of the two evils present wouldn't you say?"

"Finally something we agree on. Now then," The inspector pulled out a riot baton from his coat and extended it with a well practiced flick of his wrist. "I don't know about you but after the stunt he just pulled I'm in the mood to relieve our host of some of those big pointy fangs of his, care to assist?"

Voltaire gave a fierce grin drawing his sword with a flourish. "Inspector Lestrad I thought you'd never ask, _CHARGE!_" He bellowed as both men raced up the stairway towards Palethorn.

The vampire stared down at them before sighing and shaking his head. "The unfailing stupidity of humanity in action…this is indeed, bad comedy." He murmured closing his eyes as a strange energy begin to emanate from his body causing the space around his immediate area to shift and compress.

Halfway up the steps Voltaire's instincts screamed a warning just as the hairs on his head began to stand up, the air taking on a strange greasy coppery taste. Recognizing the telltale signs of intense magical buildup the young man hit the brakes in mid-stride, placed both of his feet on the steps and kicked off hard throwing himself directly in front of inspector Lestrad…

…Just as Palethorn's eyes snapped open with a bright red flash as a wave of raw telekinetic energy swept out in every direction like the fist of god. The entire upper half of the staircase buckled and collapsed planks of wood cracking in a thunderous rolling din like a psychotic firing squad.

Alice screamed as she was picked up and hurled against the wall from the backlash, only to be caught by Lawrence the two of them vanishing seconds before both suits of armor that had been guarding her were smashed to pieces against where they had just been standing.

The brunt of the shockwave slammed into Voltaire and for a few seconds time seemed to stop as he hung suspended in midair; the frayed edges of his coat flaring out like the wings of a startled bird the protective wards woven into his coat shined a brilliant blood red, straining to absorb enough of the impact to keep it from snapping his spine and pulping his internal organs.

Then as time seemed to speed back up the Shadowchaser's body was hurled at the inspector as though shot from a cannon sending both men tumbling down the stairs before landing below in a tangled knot of limbs and groans.

Having been spared the brunt of the attack in no small part thanks to Voltaire's intervention the inspector was the first to recover. "I'd be lying…if I said I hadn't been half expecting that to happen," He groaned before he noticed Voltaire laying a few feet away facedown on the ground.

The grogginess faded the moment he saw the blood stain the floor around Voltaire's head. "Voltaire? _Voltaire!_" The inspector forced himself up on his hands and knees and half dragged himself over before rolling the Shadowchaser over onto his back.

Blood was trickling from Voltaire's nose and from the corner of his mouth as behind the bent shattered frames of his glasses the young man's eyes rolled around in their sockets before slowly coming to rest on him. He opened his mouth to say something when his eyes bugged out grabbing his chest and breaking into a ragged coughing fit, spattering the front of his coat with bloody saliva, enough to suggest internal bleeding.

"Impressive, the last person I used that technique against was reduced to the width of a piece of paper; I suppose you have your loud mouthed companion to thank for still being counted among the living, and he the warding spell he enchanted his coat with," Palethorn said stretching out his hand in their direction as he began to prepare for another attack. "But now that your only protection has been spent, let's see how you fare from a far more concentrated bla-"

The roar Baskerville gave as all three hundred and twenty seven pounds of him slammed into Palethorn could have been mistaken for a thunderclap. The momentum behind the hellhound's leap knocked the vampire clean off his feet and smashed him through a doorway. The sound of tearing flesh, breaking bone and gristle snapping soon emanated from the gaping hole in the battered door frame as the hellhound fought to protect his master with a fury beyond description.

Wasting no time in taking advantage of the distraction Lestrad slung one of Voltaire's arms over the back of his neck before pulling him to his feet nearly falling back down himself between the additional weight and his own injuries. Gritting his teeth and blocking out the pain the inspector slowly began to make his way for the door. Four feet…three feet...two…slowly but surely the exit was coming into reach. If he could just get the two of them out of here, they could call for help, doctors, soldiers, _anyone_.

But just as the inspector carried Voltaire to the entrance, he lost his balance as the floor suddenly shifted beneath his feet, and as he staggered back the entire world seemed to tilt out of place, sending him falling backwards his arms reaching out in vain to find a handhold, only to watch as a vast bottomless void seemed to swallow them whole, as both men plummeted down…down…down…into the waiting abyss below…

Watching the two figures finally vanish into the darkness, Lawrence twisted the candlestick as the enormous mechanism operating the trap door lifted the two slabs of stone back into place with a grinding click. Hearing a sudden high pitched yelp of pain, the butler looked up in time to see Baskerville be hurled back out of the hole he had made earlier and crash against the opposite wall, sliding down with a low whimper.

There was an ominous scrabbling from within the broken doorway, before a grotesque claw, with five webbed digits and hooked talons, groped along the side of the wall. There was a deep throated hiss as a deformed, elongated _shape _began to crawl out of the darkness, its claws drawing long furrows in the doorframe in a spasm as the thing's shape began to shrink and contort, wounds sealing up and limbs snapping into less bizarre positions, until at last it had assumed the shape of Ivan Palethorn once more…with the exception that his head which was lolling around on his neck at a ninety degree angle.

"Mongrels, they're so…" Palethorn trailed off searching for a word while rolling his shoulders as his dislocated vertebrae suddenly _wrenched _back into place leaving his head in its full upright position. "_Uncivilized._" It was only then that he noticed the sudden absence of Baskerville's owner and said owner's companion, looking over the ruined chamber with a puzzled look.

"I took the liberty of activating the trap door while you were distracted dealing with the hound sir. I assumed allowing members of two separate law enforcement agencies to leave with the location of this castle would have been problematic would it not?" Lawrence asked having reappeared at the vampire's side adjusting his spectacles with one hand.

"Regardless, I would have rather had their deaths be far less _immediate_," Palethorn said folding his arms with an expression of almost childlike disappointment. He had been rather looking forward to ripping both men's tongues right out of their heads and seeing how long it took them to drown in their own blood.

"While I understand your desire to be…creative, in how you dispose of your enemies sir, need I remind you how long it took to clean up the castle the last time some would be vampire slayer attempted to vanquish you? I spent weeks washing the stains out of the walls and ceiling in the antechamber."

"Hmm? Ah yes the fellow with the whip, now I remember," Palethorn seemed to give the matter a bit more thought before he shrugged. "I suppose either way, once my would-be bride learns of their fate; it should squash any further thoughts of rescue or escape. Besides," He turned to give Lawrence an almost wolfish grin. "If the fall isn't enough to kill them, _she _will." He walked away giving a low menacing laugh as he vanished into the castle corridors.

Shaking his head Lawrence turned and surveyed the damage to the entrance hall giving a drawn out sigh. "No rest for the wicked I suppose," He said trying to figure out how long it would take to put everything back where it was before something caught his eye. On the last foot of what was left of the staircase was Voltaire's sword, having apparently been dropped during the fall.

As he moved to retrieve it, the sword gleamed and then abruptly burst into a shower of tiny motes of light, which flew through the air and down through the cracks of the trap door before they winked out of sight. For a few seconds he stood there in contemplation before the ghost of a smile crept over his face as he adjusted his glasses. "Interesting…"

_I'd say 'interesting' would have to be an understatement considering the whopper of a cliffhanger I'm leaving you guys on. As always I would really appreciate it if any reviews you guys give contain some relatively in depth feedback on what you liked and what you think could have been better, I can only hope this has been worth the wait and, god willing, I'd like to think it wont take another THREE MONTHS to update._

_I wont give much away as to what happens next, but even if our heroes survive their plummet into the castle catacombs an even greater terror waits in the darkness, a scion of primordial evil whose hunger knows no limits. Will its next meal include the flesh of a Shadowchaser and member of Gallowmere's finest? Tune in next time to find out! So until then, adieu! _


	6. A Note from the Author

A Note from the Author

Metal Overlord: *Appears sitting in an overstuffed armchair in what looks like a study packed wall to wall with bookshelves* Good morning, afternoon, or evening depending on what time it is when you read this, Metal Overlord here, still alive and still working on 'Dance Macabre' as always.

Voltaire: *Appears looking down at me from behind the top of the armchair before holding up a finger to his mouth for everyone to be quiet winking from behind his glasses*

Metal Overlord: I'm sure a great deal of the loyal people who have been reading this story since the beginning have been wondering if either I had decided to put this story on hiatus *shudders* or, most likely, have simply wondered what the devil is taking me so long to post a fifteen plus double spaced chapter in a story about card games and the occult.

Metal Overlord: The truth is punctuality has never been one of my strong suites. I often spent most of the time in between chapters (that is the time not spent playing the latest videogame, or reading OTHER people's stories or any other means of self indulgence available to me) going over everything with a fine tooth comb and often revising a single scene half a dozen times just because I felt it didn't convey what I wanted it to.

Voltaire: *Scribbles something down on a piece of paper and holds it up showing the audience the words 'Strange that he seems to think you haven't noticed this by now isn't it?'*

Metal Overlord: I also felt that, while the next chapter would have been entertaining especially if I had posted in on Halloween like I had intended to *sighs* the villainess featured there would have made the plot behind 'Dance Macabre' more complicated then perhaps I was ready to work with, so I decided to move forward to the chapter afterward, but not before making sure I avoided causing any plot holes.

Metal Overlord: Still anyone curious to see what I had planned for my next chapter should look up the name 'Ungoliant' on a search engine of their choice, and you'll see who I had intended to have Voltaire and Lestrad encounter in what would have been a special Halloween chapter/tribute to J.R Tolkien. You guys are more then welcome to ask me for the details or if you'd want me to use Ungoliant in a future story.

Voltaire: *Starts to rest against the chair his head in his hands yawning a little*

Metal Overlord: *Sighs and adjusts his glasses* Now that I've explained that part of why this has taken so long to update here's the next bit of bad news. A few days ago I was in my first ever car accident, thankfully neither myself nor the poor woman who's SUV I rear ended were seriously injured.

Metal Overlord: My car on the other hand, is being looked over at the shop and will likely cost a pretty penny to repair. I have nobody to blame for the incident but myself, but suffice to say it has been a sobering couple of days, during which I have learned a valuable lesson about paying attention to the road, obeying any and all traffic laws-

Voltaire: And when not to have 'Pillar' blaring over the radio while driving through the rain perhaps? *Watches as I leap from my chair with a startled yelp landing on my head blinking a few times* Oh right, you didn't know I was standing here, sorry.

Metal Overlord: *Clutches my chest giving my creation a death glare* Do you bloody mind? I'm trying to explain my situation to the people still reading this story!

Voltaire: Which is perfectly understandable, but considering it's been well over three months *drags out the word 'months' for emphasis* since you last updated can you blame me for wanting to provide a little entertainment for the boys and girls out there?

Metal Overlord: No, but I CAN blame you for nearly giving me a heart attack.

Voltaire: *Chuckles before waving at the audience* However there IS a bit of good news to come out of this little debacle, Metal here has gained a new job and is now counted among the members of the Newington Taco Bell work force, giving him the much needed income to help pay off any and all damages to his car.

Metal Overlord: What he said, however, while I am getting used to being an active working member of society, I cannot promise that it won't take much longer to update the next chapter. This story is NOT on hiatus, it WILL be updated as soon as I am able to do so, but it will take more time then perhaps is fair for you guys.

Voltaire & Metal Overlord: *Stand side by side and bow to the audience* We thank you for your understanding, your compassion, and of course, your reviews. Have a wonderful holiday season, and we hope that this explanation puts some concerns to rest.

Voltaire: Hmm, you know as long as were writing this, care to do a favor for one of our fellow writers Metal? It might provide our audience with some new material to help them wait.

Metal Overlord: Ah yes, good idea *pulls out a piece of paper and adjusts my glasses* well to anyone who checks my favorites list on my profile, they will notice that the story known as 'Yu-Gi-Oh Nightrise' has been updated, and I encourage anyone looking for an excellent read and some of the most wonderfully overpowered cards and strategies outside the show to give both it, the prequel 'Advent of Power' a look.

Voltaire: Ardee, like Lux Nero, Michael DJ, Cyber Commander, and Master of the Library, is a fellow Yu-Gi-Oh author who has been an ample source of both inspiration and support, and his work truly deserves any and all who have the time to check it out and drop as many reviews as they see fit.

Metal Overlord: These two stories ARE pretty hefty reads though, so we'd suggest starting with 'Advent of Power' and then working up to after reading a few stories by the author Steel Wolf General to get backgrounds for some of the characters that show up in 'Nightrise'. I've worked with Ardee on a great deal of the key plot elements, characters and cards that show up in the latter, so I hope anyone out there who reads this give this fine author a chance.

Metal Overlord: Hmm *looks through several more papers* Now was there anything else?

Voltaire: Aside from how you'd like to update before you start playing 'Elder Scrolls Skyrim' and 'Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time 3D' non stop save the bare minimum requirements for food, sleep and bathroom breaks come Christmas?

Metal Overlord: *Blushes* I was thinking maybe more along the lines of a teaser trailer for the next chapter?

Voltaire: I don't see why not *rolls in a film projector and starts it up as an image is projected for the audience* Lights…camera…FANFICTION!

_Our heroes have fallen, but it is not yet time for the curtain to fall, and before the night is over Voltaire and inspector Lestrad will face even greater terrors as the machinations of the vampire Palethorn begin to unfold._

_The figure in black: _TREAD CAREFULLY VOLTAIRE AMORE, THERE IS MORE AT STAKE THEN YOU YET REALIZE.

_In the depths of the palace dungeon however, an unlikely ally may give them the aid they need to persevere. But this labyrinth of death and decay is not without its guardian, as Voltaire comes face to face with a Shadow depicting a villain ripped from the pages of a legendary comic series._

_The next Shadow Game in Dance Macabre begins, as Voltaire's Skull Servants combat monsters more terrifying then anything ever experienced, in a strategy as sadistic as it is overwhelming. Can the Shadowchaser hope to prevail, or will he and his companions become this fiend's newest victims?_

_All this and more will be revealed, in the next thrilling chapter of 'Dance Macabre' in a chapter we just had to call 'Corridor of Agony'. _

_?: Why so serious? _

Metal Overlord: And there you have it boys and girls, your first sneak peek at the next chapter of Dance Macabre. I hope this makes up a little for such a ludicrous delay in my post, rest assured this story will NEVER be abandoned.

Voltaire: Delayed? Yes, abandoned? Far from it, as Metal will continue to work on the next chapter so until then, thank you for your patience and support in these hectic times, we really couldn't ask for a better audience. *Waves along with Metal* take care everyone!


	7. Abyss Dweller

Shadowchasers: Dance Macabre

By Metal Overlord 2.0

_I LIIIIIIVE! *Raises fists in the air triumphantly* Heh, hello everyone it's been a ludicrously long time since I updated this story so for everyone who's been waiting for me to get off my ass and get back to work on this thing I just want to say I am both deeply sorry for yet another delay and DEEPLY grateful for anyone who still clicked onto here in spite of said delays. _

_The last few years have been full of many changes for me. Some, like the acquisition of a job at Wall-Mart as a produce sales associate, my first date (and second and third so far heh) were positive. While others, such as the passing away of my father (who I have decided to dedicate this chapter to gods rest his soul) and more recently, my step-grandmother, were sobering realizations of just how short life is and how I can't count on being able to write tomorrow a story I leave unfinished today._

_Of course that's still hardly excuse for how long it's taken me to update, as I've mentioned before (and has been explained to me by my increasingly exasperated colleagues) is that I obsess over fine tuning things to the point that I am my own harshest critic, going back and redoing scenes and moves ad infinitum until it feels as though I'm stuck in a temporal loop._

_So, seeing as today is my 26__th__ birthday, I thought that with the New Year should come a chance to start over with a clean slate, so consider this my gift to you all._

_Now just as a heads up to everyone, the events described in the preview I made in my last announcement will (aside from a different antagonist) occur in NEXT chapter, as I recently had a bit of inspiration courtesy of my friend 7__th__ Librarian and felt this would help me get back into my project with a fresh start. _

_But you know, really I should also thanks many other people for helping nudge me along (if not outright shove me out the door) on my way to get back into writing. My dear friends MichaelDJ, Cyber Commander, Lux Nero, Witty Phantom, 7__th__ Librarian again, Ruin Queen of Oblivion (who again I can't thank enough for the beautiful combo of Dark Shuffle and Take Over 5), hell EVERYONE and ANYONE who's bothered to review or even read this story has my gratitude. _

_In fact, if anything good has come of all this waiting, it's that the result of my near psychotic levels of attention to detail has likely produced what will (for now) be the longest chapter that I have EVER written as a writer. I can't say I intend to have every chapter be this long (at least provided I want to finish this in the next twenty years) but consider it yet another attempt to make amends for making you all wait this long._

_That should just about cover it I believe, thank you again for your understanding everyone and welcome back to Shadowchasers: Dance Macabre! *Bows theatrically* Enjoy…_

Chapter 6: Dweller in the Abyss

(Somewhere beyond time and space…)

_Voltaire was dying, drifting deeper into the darkness, even as he saw the last few grains of sand drain away to the bottom of the hourglass. It wasn't right, there was so much to do, so much left unfinished, all he needed was time, just a bit more…time…_

_Then, as the last grain of sand began to fall, it stopped, hovering over but never quite reaching the bottom. Time couldn't be given, but maybe…it could be stretched out, so much left unfinished, a life left unlived, perhaps this could balance the scales._

_A figure appeared before him, clad in a cloak so dark it absorbed any and all trace of light, twin points of cold blue light boring into his own, the judgment of a being as old as creation itself._

"_Not for me, this isn't for me; it's for them, for what I can still do to help them," He whispered, even this seeming to take all of his strength._

_The cowl tilted to the side. _

"_I can't leave them all alone, I can still do something…I must…they'll be all alone…"_

_Kneeling down the figure looked at Voltaire in silence a moment longer. Then, something in those eyes seemed to soften, a gloved hand touching his chest, cold but not unpleasantly so, as the hourglass began to tremble. _

THEY ARE NOT ALONE

_The cowl came closer, the darkness giving only the faintest suggestion of a face, of cool breath._

_The hourglass began to turn, sand flowing back between the chambers…_

"_And neither are you,"_

(Somewhere deep beneath Palethorn's castle)

Voltaire suddenly arched his back and gave a cry, like a man remembering the first breath he had taken when he was born into the world, exhaling what looked like gleaming diamond dust into the darkness.

"Bloody _hell _I'll never get used to that!" The young man croaked sticking his tongue out with a grimace. "Ugh and then there's the _aftertaste_!"

Spitting a few times and pulling, of all things, a toothbrush out of his pocket Voltaire frantically scraped his tongue with it for a few seconds vigorously. Eventually he calmed down and looked around him seeing…nothing. Just pure solid darkness as far as the eye could, or in this case couldn't, see.

"Hmm, well I'm alive, so I suppose the next step should be…ah yes, illumination," Tossing aside the toothbrush Voltaire began to pull more things out of his seemingly ordinary pockets. A Geiger counter, a red rubber nose, a wind up mouse, two balls of string, a dog-eared paperback copy of _The Lurker at the Threshold._

The pile of junk seemed to grow until finally with a cry of triumph, Voltaire pulled out a stone that, in proper light, would have resembled a tear drop the size of a pear made out of pure white crystal.

Bringing the stone closer to his face, he whispered a single word.

"_Lumos,"_

Then as he watched, something deep within the stone flickered in response. It grew to a dull gleam and then a steadily brighter shine, until the cavern he had awoken in was bathed in soft soothing white light.

It wasn't often you'd meet someone carrying a Starlight Drop, it was a rare magical artifact, crafted by a reclusive tribe of Moon Elves who had given it to Voltaire as a gift for saving them from a long winded, overly dramatic but nonetheless very dangerous Ur-Priest named Zarok.

Zarok had come under the impression, either by studying ancient scrolls, his own dementia, and/or reading too much into _Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask_, that by using Moon Elf blood, he could cast an epic level spell to pull the moon out of orbit and send it crashing down into Earth.

Whether it would have worked or not was anyone's guess, but the possibility of wholesale slaughter was undeniable. And so Voltaire had faced Zarok in a deadly Shadow duel and had found himself on the receiving end of an extremely lethal variant of a Happy Herald build, with the added pressure of Final Countdown and Forced Requisition thrown into the mix.

But that, as they say, was a story for another time, and Voltaire could hardly afford to spend too much time in the past when so much depended upon the present. Then, as he swept the stone in a circle around him, he saw a bundle nearby.

Kneeling down and unwrapping it, Voltaire was surprised to find his sword in its sheathe laying atop his duel disk. The only other thing in the bundle was a note, written in elegant cursive.

'You are not alone,'

Looking out into the darkness beyond the light of the jewel, Voltaire sighed as he equipped his duel disk and slung his sword over his belt. "Baskerville, Inspector Lestrad, Alice…hold on, I'm coming," He said taking a step forward-

And then immediately tripping over something and landing on his face hard. "AH! Damn it to pus spewing blood-gutted _hell_!" He cursed one hand to his face, which had just made the acquaintance of a nice pointy rock. When he turned to see what he had tripped over, he seemed to completely forget how badly his face hurt.

"Inspector Lestrad?!"

It was indeed the inspector, lying face-down in a heap on the ground and covered in scrapes and bruises not appearing to be moving. For a moment the Shadowchaser feared the worst, but as he crouched down and took a pulse, he sagged in obvious relief once he found it, faint but steady.

Rolling the inspector over as gently as he could, he winced at how his companion didn't seem to look much better than he did (though he had obviously suffered less catastrophic injuries thanks to Voltaire's intervention earlier).

"Inspector? Oy inspector, come on man no time for a nap," Voltaire said gently trying to jostle the other man awake. Lestrad gave a low groan but otherwise failed to stir. Cursing under his breath, Voltaire reached back into his coat and pulled out a little leather pouch.

Flipping it open, he reached in and ran his fingertips along three small vials full of liquid, one red one blue and one green. "Lessee…how did it go again…a little of green for stamina and a touch of red for health…"

Still muttering to himself Voltaire took a fourth vial, this one empty, and poured in some fluid from both the green and red bottles, swirling it around until the contents mixed.

Hunching over, Voltaire pinched Lestrad's nose, forcing the man to open his mouth to breathe at which point he poured the contents down his throat sending the inspector into a coughing fit. "Can't say I blame you, these potions always seemed to taste like grape shoe polish at the best of ti-BLECK!"

Lestrad's hands were suddenly wrapped around his throat as the inspector bolted upright, his one visible eye almost blazing with manic ferocity, his teeth bared behind his mustache as he wrung the Shadowchaser's neck with all his might.

"_YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO REMAIN SILENT! ANYTHING YOU SAY CAN AND WILL BE USED IN A COURT OF LAW! YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO AN ATTORNY, IF YOU CANNOT AFFORD AN ATTORNEY ONE WILL BE PROVIDED TO YOU!"_

'_Too much green, far, FAR too much green!' _Voltaire thought frantically as he attempted to pry the inspector's vice like grip from around his throat, all the while having the Miranda Rights shouted at him at the top of the other man's lungs.

Then, mercifully, the sudden adrenaline rush seemed to pass as Lestrad blinked, his grip loosening enough for Voltaire to take several badly needed gulps of air as his brow wrinkled in confusion. "…Voltaire? Is that you?"

"Y-yes inspector it's me Volt-ACKH!" Was all the poor lad had time to say before suddenly Lestrad started choking him again _twice _as hard, until Voltaire looked like he was doing his best impression of Bart Simpson, bug eyes, wriggling tongue and all.

"_WHAT ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH HAVE YOU GOTTEN ME INTO MAN?! YOU HAVE EXACTLY TEN SECONDS TO EXPLAIN WHATS GOING ON HERE OR SO HELP ME YOU WON'T _LIVE _LONG ENOUGH TO FILE A COMPLAINT FOR POLICE BRUTALITY!" _

"_Can't…talk…too…busy…dying…" _Voltaire wheezed, his face turning deep purple as his life started to flash before his eyes.

But as angry as Lestrad was at Voltaire for dragging him and seemingly everyone else in Gallowmere into something straight out of a nightmare, an image refused to leave his mind. The memory of Voltaire throwing himself in front of him to shield him from Palethorn's attack, hacking up his own blood in a crumpled pile on the floor.

Several complex emotions passed over Lestrad's face before he sighed and released his hold on Voltaire's throat, taking deep breaths to try and calm down while Voltaire did the same simply to stay alive.

"I feel I was denied…critical…_need-to-know_…information,"

"Not to tempt fate, but wouldn't it have been easier to convey said information when I still had full access to my windpipe?" Voltaire panted.

Even in the flickering light of the stone, Lestrad's face turned slightly red. "Um, right, sorry about that. It's just been a long night and when I first came to I mistook you for Palethorn."

"..And who did you think I was when you started choking me again?"

"Self-explanatory I should think," Lestrad muttered before glancing over sheepishly. "Sorry about that by the way. I know I owe you my life and all but this whole mess is really starting to stretch my nerves and all your rambling doesn't help my mood much."

To Voltaire's credit he seemed to take this in remarkable stride, brushing the comment aside with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Oh please, I lost count of how many times my apprentice either strangled me, stomped on my foot or in one instance shoved a rolled up paperback halfway down my throat just to get me to stop talking. Compared to her, that barely constituted as a love tap."

As soon as he could wrap his head around this, Lestrad's expression softened enough to convey gratitude as he nodded. "Good, well then first question, what the _hell _is going on? Boogiemen and occult sorcery is one thing, but how does a man nearly break every bone in a body without even touching him?"

"Telekinetic shockwave if I had to guess. Outside of a small but notorious circle of creatures such as Aboleth and Illithid, very few are born with that kind of ability. And it's only marginally less unlikely to find anyone who's able to train themselves to harness such power enough to use it effectively, but it's certainly within a vampire's ability to master, especially a Grand General."

"I heard you and Palethorn throw that title around a few times, mind explaining what it means? I'm assuming if Palethorn really is a vampire (which raises more than a few questions in and of itself but I'm assuming were short on time) there's a bit of a difference between his lot and the kind that confuse their 'W's and their 'V's and recoil in horror at a pizza topping.

"Ah Bella Lugosi god bless his soul, now there was a man even real vampires were hard pressed to match in style," Voltaire said giving a nostalgic smile before a gentle cough from Lestrad brought him back to the topic at hand.

"Right, the Grand Generals were...the Sith Lords, the Death Eaters, Organization Thirteen, The Order of the Silence, every shadowy covenant of supremely powerful beings ever depicted in popular culture, saturated in nightmare, marinated in hate and raised to the tenth power."

"They were the highest authority among vampires, each one with powers equal to or greater then a demi god, but there are so many contradicting accounts it's almost impossible to know where truth begins and legend ends. We're not even entirely certain what happened to all of them after the war, though some like Palethorn were dispatched in rather well known conflicts."

"Myotis the Blood Artisan, Bruticus the Duke of Wolves, Antasma the Swift Wings of Night, Heliophana the Devil of War, people speak these names with the same kind of fear and reverence one would any Elder Evil."

It took a lot to frighten Lestrad, but even he had to give a soft gulp at the thought of what such a group of monstrously powerful supernatural warlords could be capable of. "And Palethorn was one of these…Grand Generals? What did they call him?"

For a moment Voltaire didn't answer, looking to the side into the darkness a grim look on his face. When he finally spoke it was so soft it was almost a whisper.

"Ivan Palethorn…they called him the Torture King and he's one of the few Grand Generals we have any real information on. His cruelty was...boundless, legend had it the denizens of hell learned most of the techniques used to torture the damned from his methods, but even discounting that his victims numbered in tens, hundreds of thousands."

"And now someone claiming to be him has Alice…" Lestrad had to snuff out that train of thought before his imagination could begin to conjure up the kind of thoughts that would push his already rattled resolve to the breaking point. There was only so much the human brain is able to process at one time.

Instead he concentrated on the next pressing matter. "So where are we now?"

Voltaire looked around shining the light from the jewel in his hand in a slow rotation casting the rest of their surroundings into greater clarity. It was a vast, moist cavern, stretching for miles in several directions via a network of tunnels of various sizes, with at least a foot of water covering the ground but for a few slabs of upraised rock like the one they were on now.

"What would your response be if I said we were in a cave?"

Lestrad's eye went rather dull as he reconsidered keeping himself from finishing his earlier attempt to choke Voltaire to death. "I'd say some form of bodily harm would be in order unless you wanted to be just a _smidge _more specific,"

"Well it _is _a cave, one that is connected to what appears to be an enormous underground network of passageways naturally formed over millions of years of erosion. My guess is, Palethorn has traps all over his castle which are used to deposit intruders down here,"

"For what exactly?" Lestrad had a feeling that someone like Palethorn would never settle for something as passive as leaving an enemy to wander through a labyrinth of passages to starve.

"Mmm, hard to tell, could be anything from swarms of starving vermin, spiders the size of cattle with acidic venom, blind albino humanoid cannibals capable of echolocation, or in one rather unpleasant instance while investigating the underwater laboratory of a Vykker, a ninety seven foot long specimen of _Architeuthis _spliced with leech and hydra DNA-"

"_ENOUGH ALREADY!" _Lestrad's face was an odd mix of flush with anger and nearly drained of color in various places making him look like a blushing onion. "God in heaven Voltaire when I asked for specifics did you think I meant the complete works of Stephen King and H.P Lovecraft? Yesterday the most frightening thing I had to worry about was armed drug addicts, domestic terrorists and high cholesterol."

Voltaire looked back at his companion with a concerned look. "You haven't been watching your cholesterol? Inspector you really need to stay on top of that, at your age a cardiac arrest is one the leading potential health risks,"

"At the rate things are going Voltaire a heart attack seems the _least_ likely way I'm going to die," The inspector growled, "Now do we have a way out of here or not?"

Thinking it over, Voltaire slowly walked around the circumference of the chamber, making sure to keep himself and Lestrad in the light of the jewel at all times, all the while sniffing deeply through his nose every time he passed a tunnel, even fanning his hand to usher the air deeper into his nostrils.

"Shouldn't you be having your do-" Suddenly Lestrad paused as something occurred to him. "Wait a minute, Baskerville, oh _hell! _He went after Palethorn right after he attacked us! We have to find him!"

"Believe me inspector I have no more intention of abandoning Baskerville then I do Alice, but right now we need to focus. Were no good to either so long as were blundering around down here,"

"How can you be so calm?! We nearly DIED up there and for all we know Palethorn's turned Baskerville into a throw rug by now!"

Pausing at this Voltaire gave Lestrad a look that seemed equal parts touched and mildly exasperated. "My dear inspector, it comforts me, and I'm sure it would Baskerville as well, to know you have such concern for his wellbeing. However I once saw that dog get struck by a Holy Bolt cast by a Knight of Domiel who was, at the time, channeling the power of the Hebdomad himself and do you know what happened?"

"He got the runs for a week, tops. Point is it will take far more than anything a washed up diva like Palethorn can muster to put that dog in the ground. I won't waste any more time then I can choose to in finding him, but I don't doubt for an instant he can take care of himself until then."

Finally as he resumed sniffing, Voltaire stopped in front of a tunnel, sniffed once, twice more, and then broke into a broad smile.

"Ah-_ha! _The air down this passage is fresher, less stagnant, which means unless I'm mistaken, and I'm almost certain I'm not, we _should_ eventually find a source of ventilation that could lead us back to the surface!"

He took off at a brisk trot down the tunnel the light slowly vanishing with him as Lestrad looked down after him for a moment before he shook his head and hurried after him with a muttered curse.

The passageway seemed to carry on for nearly a mile, the only sounds aside from the sloshing of their feet through the water around their ankles came from the drip-drip-drip of water from stalactite's overheard, more than a few of which would splash right down on top of Lestrad's head while Voltaire's hat kept his own dry as a bone.

"I'm going to take the awkward silence to mean you have something you want to ask inspector, correct?" Voltaire enquired turning his head slightly as he walked to look back at Lestrad.

Truth be told Lestrad had a million questions, but one in particular had kept nagging at him ever since their encounter with Palethorn. "You and Palethorn mentioned something about the vampires being nearly wiped out, what exactly happened?"

Voltaire stopped so suddenly Lestrad nearly walked right into him. Turning again, Lestrad could have sworn the young man's face looked older, and infinitely sadder.

"There was...a war, a terrible war that raged for years, fueled by fear and hate. Nobody knows how it started or why, but once it began it spread to nearly every corner of the world until a once mighty empire was reduced to dust and ash."

It was a gut wrenching thing to imagine, but Lestrad was a policeman through and through, and so the skeptical voice that had never completely gone quiet since the night had started couldn't help but compel him to ask. "And nobody thought to _record _this global conflict between ancient human civilization and an empire of supernatural creatures?"

Voltaire blinked and just as quickly as it had come the somber look in his eyes was one of exasperation. "Of _course _they recorded the events of the war, but it's not like your average mundane is going to crack open a dusty tome detailing an epic battle between man and bloodthirsty demonic creatures and go 'Oh my god someone wrote it down so it must be true, I MUST TELL EVERYONE!"

"That's the quickest way to either wind up in a loony bin or, worse yet, a dead beat author who writes cheap romance novels that turns one of the most feared predators in the history of Shadowkind into anorexic glittering _pixies, _all amidst a veritable smorgasbord of blatant sexism, championed domestic abuse and _RAMPANT _insults to the intelligence of every poor sod who was ever talked into reading them or, worse yet, forced to sit through one of those stupid-"

Voltaire suddenly stopped and blinked a few times. "Hang on, lost my train of thought," Lestrad opened his mouth to say something when Voltaire abruptly jabbed a finger into his face. "No don't tell me! I can get it back just give me a second,"

Then to the inspector's disbelief the Shadowchaser started counting on his fingers muttering all the while. "Let's see, recent topics of conversation. There was abuse at the hands of my apprentice, Baskerville getting the runs, reasons why the Grand Generals are dangerous, giant mutant squid, vampire/human war, why Stephanie Meyers is burning in hell AH-HA!" He snapped his fingers.

"Right, ever hear of racial memory? The idea that some ideas and thoughts are so ingrained in humanity's psyche, that we all have them? Fear of the dark is one...the death of the vampires seemed to trigger some sort of 'racial amnesia', as if the entire war had been a bad dream."

"…Seriously?"

"Oh come on, people make an art form out of avoiding what's right in front of them every day. You think we only just learned to do it in the past few centuries?"

"When people first learn about how the Veil prevents us from seeing Shadows as they truly are, a lot of initial assumptions are it's a choice on our part out of simple ignorance that we refuse to accept anything we don't understand."

"Now, while this is understandable, it's far from the actual truth, as the Veil can be better described as a defense mechanism than anything else. From the moment we are born to the moment we die, life is full of uncertainty, and leaves us desperate for any semblance of control."

"We don't know what happens when we die, we come up with religion. We don't know what's in the darkness, we turn on the lights. Explaining away how the world works around us is one of the few ways we can stay sane-" Voltaire paused noticing Lestrad arching an eyebrow. "Well, _relatively _sane anyway,"

"The point is, and yes there is a point stay with me here, that the Veil exists to allow us the sense of understanding about the world that keeps us going on with our everyday lives. Every time there's been a major challenge to how we view the world, that the Earth is round and not flat, that Earth is not the center of the universe but in fact orbits the sun, and that cigarettes are good for you and not glorified cancer sticks promoted by animated camels, there's resistance to the change that follows."

"America nearly tore itself apart just to accept that African Americans have equal rights, how well do you think people would react if suddenly they find out they aren't even the sole sentient species on this planet, let alone in the universe?"

Lestrad opened his mouth to make an argument, only to close it as he reconsidered. Hard as it was to believe there _was _an odd sort of sense to Voltaire's explanation of how all of this could have been ignored for so long by most people.

How well would _he_ have taken all of this without his dedication to his job and the knowledge that regardless of whether he believed any of this or not, Alice and the rest of Gallowmere was in terrible danger?

"Events on that scale happen a great deal more often than you'd think for whatever reason, and we either don't see them or twist them into something we can explain rationally not out of pride or stupidity, but simply because for most people being exposed to the full scale of the cosmos and all that is both wonderful and terrible, their brains tend to turn to mush."

"Like for instance someone like you?" Lestrad hadn't meant to say it out loud, he really hadn't.

"Hmm? Oh no I was what most would call damaged goods before I even knew what a Bugbear was, my family even had me sent to a psychiatric ward when I was a lad," His smile faded a little as he sighed. "Of course that caused more problems than it solved…"

Curious Lestrad began to debate whether he should enquire further before Voltaire lifted his head and went still. "Do you hear that?"

In the silence that followed Lestrad began to hear something beyond their breathing and the slow, inexorable drip of water from the stalactites hanging overhead, the soft sloshing of water onto a shore.

"We couldn't be at the surface already could we?" Lestrad remarked, but Voltaire was already taking off down the tunnel with a flutter of his coat, causing the inspector to take off after him with a fresh curse. "How much bloody footwork does this job involve anyway?!"

The tunnel slowly opened up before Voltaire's piece of starlight cast its glow over a remarkable site. In a vast cavern, stretching as far as the light could go was an enormous underground lake, of water so murky it was as if they were looking at the surface of a pool of ink.

"An underground reservoir, if I had to guess there are channels of water branching off it that go in every direction for miles under mountain," Voltaire thought aloud as they walked along the water's edge.

"If they had been aware of these channels, the Knights Templar who originally laid siege to the castle would have likely sent a small force to infiltrate the castle using these passageways while the others drew the bulk of Palethorn's forces away from the castle."

"But why let themselves get drawn out in the first place, wouldn't it make more sense to simply holed up and wait them out? Last time I checked that's more or less what a castle is built for in the first place,"

Voltaire shook his head. "Vampires of that age were extremely proud of the power they wield over humanity, they lorded it over their prey like tyrants to the point that the idea of retreating from battle with 'mere' humans would have been practically an insult. Palethorn likely only withdrew into his fortress when he had no other choice available."

"The point _is, _if they used these passages to get into the castle, then provided Palethorn never sealed up whatever entrance they used, we should be able to get back up to the castle as well. We just need to get to the other side of this lake,"

"Yes well I don't know about you, but after hearing about the ninety plus foot long mutant squid I don't feel that inclined to take a swim,"

"Luckily, it appears we don't have to," Voltaire said holding the gem out, casting its glow over something that at first glance Lestrad had mistaken for a pile of driftwood, but was in fact the most derelict rowboat he had ever seen. It looked like it could barely stay afloat on _dry land_ let alone water.

"Nothing about that boat says 'lucky' to me Voltaire, we'd be better off trying to find another way around," Lestrad said, hardly even surprised when Voltaire's immediate reaction to this was to walk past him and start pushing the boat into the water.

"We don't have the luxury of wandering around down here all night inspector, besides give the old girl a chance, she seems perfectly sea-worthy, er, lake-worthy," The young man grunted as he managed to push the boat into the shallowest part of the lake.

As they watched it creaked and rocked slightly from side to side, as if trying to decide whether it still remembered how to float. Then, miraculously, it seemed to settle into place showing no further sign of sinking.

"Oh ye of so little faith," Voltaire said chuckling as he patted Lestrad on the shoulder and slowly clambered aboard, pulling out the oars and dipping one into the water on each side.

Before he joined his companion, Lestrad pulled a plastic baggie out of his coat (one of several he kept to store evidence and the occasional sandwich) and sealed up both his revolver and the last of his ammunition inside.

Part of him wondered why he should even bother considering what little good the weapon had done him so far tonight, but at this point he wanted _something _more effective than his bare hands to deal with the next unspeakable horror waiting around the bend.

Getting in as well, Lestrad grimaced as they pushed off into the water, the boat incessantly rocking back and forth with every stroke of the oars, he had never been that wild of boats to begin with, and those were the ones he was pretty sure _wouldn't _sink at any moment.

Still, through either a miracle or a gesture of pity by the universe, the boat held together as they slowly ventured deeper out onto the surface of the lake, Voltaire's stone the sole source of illumination.

Out of nowhere Voltaire started to whistle 'Row-Row-Row Your Boat' with every sign of genuine delight as he rowed, hardly faltering at the stony glare his companion gave him as he sat across from him.

"You know (and believe it or not this isn't just to make you stop whistling) there is one other thing that I've been meaning to ask about all this vampire business,"

"Hmm?"

"Well, all this talk of vampires and I've never heard once about the first name that comes to mind when you mention them, you know, Dracu-"

"_FORTHELOVEOFMOTHERANDCHILDDONOTSAYTHATNAME!"_

"_MmmmfhhmmfmfmfmfMMMFH!"_

"Yes I know stuffing part of my hat in your mouth is a violation of your personal space but believe me, there are some names you do _not _want to say lightly in this business and that's a BIG one!"

"Mmmfmmhmmf?"

"Well it's like the taboo about saying Voldemort's name in the Harry Potter books, the being you almost said the name of aloud is _very _real and _very _dangerous, and while technically this…being, is not an enemy of the Shadowchasers or humanity in general, the _last _thing we'd need is to bring them into this. I mean two elder vampires in the same area? That's a Kaiju sized cock-fight just waiting to happen."

"Granted, there was some semblance of structure and cooperation back before the War, but the main reason the Twelve Grand Generals kept in line and didn't go completely off the rails was because this being was powerful enough to keep the lot of them in check."

"Mmmmfhhmm,"

"Right, so until we know exactly what's going on, attracting the attention of something that powerful without first finding out what Palethorn's up to, or how he managed to survive the war, would only make an already complicated situation _exceedingly _more so,"

"Because make no mistake Lestrad, I've served queen and country a hundred times over. I've crossed blades with Ipos Lord of the Masque in front of a crowded opera house including the Queen of England herself. I've watched artillery shells rain down on the ruins of R'yleh as Deep Ones attempted to awaken the Star Spawn of Cthulhu. I've even faced a Duel Assassin whose only method of communication was the most foul mouthed sock puppet I have ever seen outside of an Adult Swim program,"

"But I wouldn't wish to cross paths with the creature in question even if I had Stormbringer himself and every Shadowchaser in the world at my back unless I was absolutely _sure _the situation wasn't about to turn violent."

"…Mmfmffmmmmf?"

"Hmm? Oh, right, well so long as you don't say that name aloud then I'll happily let you speak again," Voltaire said looking a bit embarrassed as he slowly allowed his companion to regurgitate his hat, neither one of them looking all that eager to look the other in the eye.

In fact, it was because Lestrad was looking over the side of the boat down into the water, that he caught a glimpse of something illuminated by the starlight. "Eh? Wait a moment," He motioned for Voltaire to cease rowing as they drifted slowly to a halt.

Taking the stone for a moment, Lestrad leaned over the side and peered down as the starlight swept over the water, trying to find what had caught his attention earlier. "Well I'll be…there, right there!" Pointing he saw a flash of scales as a particularly ugly looking fish swam underneath them.

Then there was another, and another, and before they knew it an entire school of them was swimming beneath the boat into the darkness of the lake. "Huh, I guess there's some marine life down here after a-"

The rest of what Lestrad had meant to say was cut off as suddenly something in the water displaced it enough to cause waves to strike the boat hard, nearly sending the inspector head first into the water as they teetered side to side. The light of the stone caught a glimpse of something swimming after the fish, something _big._

Then, still frozen in place, Lestrad watched as the shape slowly pasued in pursuit of the fish and circled back beneath them as though drawn to the light. For just for an instant the starlight reflected off an eye, bigger than his head, deep reddish orange in color with a reptilian iris as black as coal.

He looked at the eye, and the eye looked back, and then the enormous iris shifted and the shadow vanished with a flick of a tail.

"Huh, must have been a rogue current," Voltaire mused, picking up the oars and beginning to row once more. "See any big fish down there inspector?"

"Big…yes…big…very big…very…big…big…bigbigbigbig," Was about all the poor man could manage at this point.

"Inspector? You look like you've seen a ghost," Voltaire said tilting his head at Lestrad, who unfortunately was yet again the only one to see the sight of _something _churning through the water beneath them, this time with a gleam of dark emerald scales.

"Ghost? No, definitely, _definitely _not a ghost but, um," The inspector struggled to keep calm even as something within the deepest most primitive part of his brain was screaming itself hoarse. "I _think _we should row just a bit faster,"

Still not sure what was going on, but smart enough to tell _something _had spooked Lestrad, Voltaire began to resume rowing, faster this time and looking off towards the shore as though trying to guess how quickly they could get there.

Another jolt hit the boat, harder this time and as it rocked harder like a toy ship in a bathtub, both men saw something circle around beneath them, the movements unmistakably predatory in nature.

"Oh dear," It didn't seem possible, but if anything Voltaire's face had gone even paler than usual, waning like a full moon the light gleaming off a sudden coat of perspiration. "I fear we may not be as high on the food chain down here as I would have hoped,"

"Really, and what clued you in to that? The fact we're suddenly in the middle of a remake of 'Jaws'?! For god's sakes how did you handle the mutant squid?"

"I'd tell you but my apprentice promised to inflict some rather graphic forms of physical harm to me if I ever told anyone, to this day she still can't look a plate of calamari in the eye without blushing-"

Frantically shushing him, Lestrad watched as the dark shape began to circle closer. "Listen, can you control how brightly that thing can glow?" The inspector whispered, trying to formulate a plan even in the face of growing panic, he could almost hear a certain ominous orchestral piece playing in the background.

Feeling a glimmer of hope as Voltaire nodded; the inspector wracked his brain even as the shape drew closer,

"Okay listen, it's a long shot but maybe…maybe if we stop moving and keep quiet, whatever it is down there will surface to see if were worth eating. If that happens, wait for my signal, then turn that rock up to the highest setting it's got and try and remember which direction shore is in,"

"…You know that plan might just be crazy enough to work, or get us killed, fifty-fifty really, well more like sixty-forty being realistic,"

"_Just shut up and stay down!"_

Whispering to the stone, Voltaire pressed down next to Lestrad into the bottom of the boat, their hearts pounding in their chests as they waited breathlessly in the dark, the whole time expecting something to burst up and crush their boat in its jaws at any moment.

Another jostle to the boat made their stomach's lurch, but this time with neither of them rowing, the boat merely drifted and spun lazily in the water. Another nudge soon came, but not as hard, almost seemingly out of puzzlement as the boat gave no further sign of life.

Then, there was the sound of something slowly surfacing from the water, a smell washing over Lestrad like nothing he'd ever experienced in his life (and would have been quite content to have gone the rest of his life without knowing it to be frank). It was like the smell of unearthed graves, corpses dredged up from the deepest depths of the ocean and bringing with them the odors of everything that crawled, flopped, slithered or swam to the surface.

A deep guttural hiss filled the air a dull orange light cast over the boat, like two spotlights shining through a bank of heavy fog. Lestrad lifted his head…_and saw those enormous eyes, glowing like burnt amber, peering down at him, the pupils narrowing as if sensing his movements!_

"_NOW!"_

The word had torn free of his throat before he had even started to think about it, Voltaire hissing an incantation as suddenly the stone went off as if going supernova, forcing Lestrad to cover his eyes after catching a glimpse of the shoreline. A terrible, tooth rattling earthshaking roar burst out of whatever beast had surfaced, the boat nearly overturning as a massive shape writhed drawing back from the blinding light and floundering in the water.

Not even aware of whether Voltaire was doing the same, Lestrad dove into the water, gasping as the icy chill seemed to hit him like being slapped with a thousand bone deep needles, but even as the cold water bit at him, adrenaline spurred him on making a mad paddling for the shore, the deafening roars briefly subsiding as whatever it was they had blinded dove back underwater as if to flee the burning light.

With almost overwhelming relief, the inspector flung himself upon the rocky shoreline. Amidst gasping and sputtering he broke into either cursing fluently or offering no small amount of gratitude to any deity within earshot. It took a few minutes for him to calm down enough to notice Voltaire was in a similar state, clutching the gleaming stone, wheezing around the bit of his hat he had clamped between his teeth like a horse's bridle.

"Hahhh…hhahh…surprised you could swim at all with that damn duel disk on your arm…" Lestrad huffed out, rolling onto his back, splayed over the shore, his heart thudding so hard he thought it would burst.

"Hnnnhhh….a little after-market modification…anytime the duel disk is submerged in any form of liquid a spell I had put on it activates making it almost weightless and…greatly enhances durability. Good for maneuverability underwater…exposure to harmful chemicals…lava…etcetera,"

Even as winded as he was the inspector had to look over at Voltaire incredulously. "Did you just say lava? As in, you people are willing to go into an area with _volcanic activity _ready to use duel monsters to apprehend someone, and you're that worried about your duel disk?"

"Inspector, more often than not, you would be _amazed _at how easily an ego can be goaded into abiding by the Fair Fight Clause. In fact it's often easier dealing with demonic foes, as they are almost hard wired to be unable to resist a challenge-"

The lake suddenly erupted in a spray as with an earth shaking roar a shape flung itself out bearing down on both men like a falling redwood tree. Diving out of the way Lestrad and Voltaire scrambled to find cover as something slammed down with a sound like a thunderclap, floundering ashore.

Finding a good size rock to hide behind, Lestrad heard whatever had attacked them in the lake slither ashore, that deep hissing filling the air once and followed by, to his astonishment, _coherent words in the English language._

"Ugh, _humans? _The first creatures that come tumbling down here in years and what do I get? Not a nice fat cow or a few tender hogs, no I get humans, the gangliest, stringiest two legged beasts on this rock, hooray for me,"

Lestrad had to blink hearing this. The voice itself was deeply menacing, a gravelly razor edged snarl accompanied by an underlining hiss that strangely reminded him of the sound a snake made as it flicked out its tongue to smell.

However, beneath that menacing tone, there was something far more familiar but infinitely stranger; a sort of scathing irritable sarcasm that would have been more fitting a loud mouthed patron at a restaurant who apparently had decided his meal was a personal affront to his sense of taste.

"I mean don't get me wrong," The voice continued as the creature seemed to lumber through the darkness searching for its quarry. "You lot aren't bad with the proper preparation. A bit of seasoning, a nice red sauce, delicious even!"

"But served up raw and wriggling and screaming? Ugh, you'll barely be a step above the fish down here, and that's not saying much. In a way I'm almost sorry about this whole situation. Not about having to eat you of course, for better or for worse it's my job. But, I can't promise I'll _enjoy _it."

There was a moment of silence that followed as if the beast was expecting either Lestrad or Voltaire to realize how inconvenient they were making things and simply come out of their hiding place to be devoured before the creature sighed.

"You might as well come out you know. I can't see very well right now (thank you SO much for that by the way, I really needed a pounding headache) but I can still smell you. Speaking of which…"

Was it Lestrad's imagination, or was the darkness lessening where he was hiding? Then in a moment of panic he realized that the reason why he could see his surroundings more clearly _was because he was being illuminated by the glow of the monster's eyes like a deer caught in the headlights!_

"A word of advice in the next life; use less pungent cologne," The beast said, the outline of titan jaws creaking open to reveal row after row of razor sharp teeth appearing beneath those hellish eyes. "Now if you could just stand still for a moment I should be able to get you all in one bite-"

"_COVER YOUR EYES INSPECTOR!"_

Lestrad's training kicked in before he had even heard Voltaire finish the sentence, squeezing his eyes shut before a flash of light like a miniature sun lit up the chamber, the beast drawing back with an earsplitting roar of pain, followed by a crash as it apparently fell over disoriented by further damage to its eye-sight.

Feeling Voltaire haul him to his feet, Lestrad risked opening his eyes, seeing his companion hold the still brightly shining Stardrop as if to ward off the monstrosity writhing in obvious agony from getting another face full of blinding starlight.

When he saw the creature fully revealed, inspector Lestrad had a sudden flashback to his childhood, sitting in his father's lap in front of a warm cozy fire as he showed him a book full of dinosaur illustrations along with their scientific names and facts.

The beast that was struggling to right itself, hissing and cursing all the while, was almost a dead ringer for an aquatic species he had come to like more than the rest called a Plesiosaur, with large rubbery fins, a stubby tail and a long slender neck upon which sat a head with a mouth full of nasty looking teeth.

However if anything, this specimen was infinitely more ferocious then the dinosaur in the book, bigger in size with dark emerald scales with edges that gleamed like razors, and several rows of spines running down from the crown of its head to the end of its tail.

"_Will…you…STOP DOING THAT!" _The serpent like beast roared rolling over and drawing itself to its full impressive height, its head nearly scraping the ceiling of the cavern above.

"Oh I'm sorry, was it rude not to simply let you devour someone under my protection? Dear me let me just hand him over on a silver platter garnered with hollandaise sauce and some oven fresh bread!" Voltaire snapped back, keeping the stone outstretched in front of him and keeping Lestrad behind him at all times.

"Less witty banter more explanations, what the _hell _is it?!" Lestrad hissed, for once not even bothering to reach for his service piece this time, as the creature's hide looked strong enough to deflect rounds from an anti-tank rifle, let alone a revolver.

If anything, the beast seemed to become even _more _irate hearing this.

"Oh, so I'm an '_it' _now am I? Not enough you disturb me in the middle of hunting and blind me in one eye, but now I don't even qualify for a proper gender?" The serpent snapped lowering its head so its burning eyes were that much closer to the two men despite the light of the stone seeming to keep it at bay.

"I really need to remember to bring you up to speed on how to address Shadows inspector," Voltaire muttered before raising his free hand in what was supposed to be a calming gesture. "Now now…sir, let's not take things personally. It's his first night dealing with our end of the rabbit hole, lots to catch up on you know."

"How do you know it's a male?"

"First of all, _stop calling him an 'it'! _Second of all, Cryptodon males always have that flared crest of spines; the females do not and are generally smaller in size."

"Wait, Cryptodon?" Despite the imminent danger they were still in Lestrad gave his companion a bewildered look.

"I'm starting to feel like a bloody Wikipedia, all right here's the short version. Cryptodons, like our friend here, are a species of voracious aquatic carnivores whose native environment is the River Styx (yes _that _River Styx, don't ask me for more details that's a particular can of worms I'd rather not spring on you along with everything else you've learned tonight)."

"They are apex predators, whose diet mainly consists of Wastrilith, Aboleth, and anything elseunlucky enough to cross their paths in the water in a pinch. They aren't commonly encountered here, but the ones who find themselves on Earth usually settle for various species of whales and deep ocean sharks. Frankly how one could survive down here without starving to death is beyond me."

"Hmph, if you can call this surviving. So," The Cryptodon turned his head to better examine them. "What might you lot be, burglars perhaps? Spies? Assassins? Palethotn doesn't usually send anyone down here unless he's finished 'playing' with them."

Voltaire and Lestrad exchanged a look wondering how much they should tell the creature. He didn't seem to be overly enthusiastic about his position down here, but even a disgruntled servant could still be an obedient one. Besides, if they mentioned Alice and Argol were to have some means to communicate with Palethorn, he'd likely increase whatever security he had around her, and that was assuming they made it out of there alive.

"Palethorn…took something of great value from the people in Gallowmere. We were simply attempting to return it to its rightful home. We didn't even realize Palethorn was here until we ran smack dab into him and he dropped us down a trap door."

The serpent's eyes narrowed before he gave a rather dry chuckle. "Ah, a pair of would be burglars is it? Not the first time someone's had the bright idea to try and steal from a vampire's lair, I've picked my teeth with more than a few bones from such greedy fools,"

Voltaire's brow furrowed in confusion before realization hit him. "So you're his, what, executioner?"

"That's a fairly over-romantic way to describe it," The Cryptodon said giving a great hissing sigh. "Garbage disposal seems more what he views me as. Everyone he sends down for me to eat is usually so far gone from being tortured for information or just the sheer hell of it, they can't do much other than scream, babble or weep."

"Of course the last time that happened was, ugh, I can't even remember. It's hard to keep track of time down here aside from when the tide comes and goes. Tell me, is the war between Palethorn's kind and you humans still going on?"

Voltaire blinked, opened his mouth to say something, then stopped and blinked again.

"Um, mister…?"

"Argol, well, that's about as close as I can get to pronouncing it correctly in your language,"

"Right, well…Argol, I don't know how long you've been down here, but the war ended centuries ago. Nearly all of the vampires were either wiped out or are in hiding."

Now it was Argol's turn to look bewildered, and that's a rather vivid expression to have on a face that large. "Wiped out, is Palethorn dead too?" It was hard to miss the hopeful tone in his voice.

"Unfortunately, from what we've seen so far tonight it seems Palethorn survived the end of the war. Of course exactly how he was able to is anybody's guess."

The Cryptodon spat what sounded like an obscenity. "Of course he did, Dagon forbid I actually find myself not having to be stuck down here eating the same types of bottom feeding fish day after day. Do you have any idea what the fish down here taste like? Like salted down rubber marinated in tapioca."

The beast sighed. "But I suppose I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. If those knights couldn't kill the bastard way back when, I doubt either of you would have fared any better."

"Knights? What knights?" Voltaire asked.

"Well until you two came dropping in, the last humans to come down here was a large company of humans in armor emblazoned a red cross. Not the sharpest fangs in the row really, a lot of babbling about 'Fathers, sons and holy spirits,' and a great deal of boasting about how they'd send me 'back to the foul hell from which I was spawned'," Again Argol sighed. "If only…"

"It sounds like I was right. Apparently the Knight Templar who supposedly defeated Palethorn _did _sneak into these caverns and, from the sound of it, ran into Argol. Which means if there was a way into the castle then-"

"There might still be one now?" Argol finished looking somewhat bemused. "You know it's pointless to whisper, I can hear everything you're saying. It's true that they found a way up into the castle after they drove me off with a few wounds, but I don't think it's very likely to be still useable if enough time has passed as you're suggesting."

"In any case, while it's been surprisingly pleasant to chat, if Palethorn is still alive, he'll be expecting me to deal with you, so if you don't mind (or even if you do) I'm afraid this is about time for me to kill you."

"Oh, and how are you going to do that? Starlight is White Magic, exactly the kind of thing a creature of demonic origin can't stand being exposed to in a strong enough dose, so unless you want another round of being flash-bombed I don't see you killing anyone anytime soon."

"Well you two have to sleep sometime, and seeing as I doubt either of you know your way around here. I could just wait for you to collapse from exhaustion and then kill you," Argol grimaced slightly. "Though I've found humans are so stringy by that point, all that stress seems to wind them right up and its murder to pick the bits out between my teeth,"

"Well this is going in an encouraging direction," Lestrad whispered under his breath. "Any more tricks you can pull out of your hat Perseus?"

"If you mean the decapitated head of a gorgon, a flying winged horse, a reflective shield and/or a helmet of invisibility? No such luck, I'm afraid he's got the advantage and right now the only reasons were still alive seems to be the stone and…" Suddenly he stopped a light going on in his head.

"You know maybe I shouldn't be surprised that you'd stoop to something like that to kill us. After all, you've spent so long down here as Palethorn's personal garbage disposal; I have to wonder if you still remember how to hold your own against your prey in a real struggle."

Argol's eyes widened a fraction before they narrowed dangerously, lowering his head even further so his gaze was level with Voltaire's own. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that human?"

"Nono! I'm sure Voltaire didn't mean to say anything that might offend a giant bloody _sea monster!" _Lestrad said giving the Shadowchaser a warning look that, surprise surprise, went completely unnoticed.

"You seem to be rather less than pleased with working for Palethorn, and yet you'd be little better than him just waiting for us to drop from exhaustion like a common scavenger, I wonder how the rest of your kind would feel knowing one of their own was so…domesticated, that he'd jump through hoops for a vampire rather than give his prey a sporting chance."

"You're treading in very dangerous waters human," Argol hissed, circling around them as Voltaire walked in perfect step, the two circling one another with the poor inspector trying to keep Voltaire and the stone between him and the serpent at all times. "I've stalked and devoured everything from Megalodon to Narwhal to Giant Squid. My kind has preyed on the minions of Levistus himself before your species had even crawled out of the mud."

"All very impressive, but that's neither here nor now. You want to prove you're still able to outwit a worthy foe, that your instincts as a hunter haven't gone dull? Then let's level the playing field. One contest, a battle of wits between you and me, winner decides the fate of the loser,"

"And what makes you think I'd accept such a ridiculous offer?" Argol hissed. "What do I have to prove to you to make me bother humoring something I could just as easily eat in a single bite?"

"Because maybe it's not me you'd be trying to prove to, but yourself. Look in the reflection of that pond Argol and tell me. Do you see a predator, or a pet?" Voltaire's expression seemed to be set in stone, a dangerous gleam in his eyes that seemed a startling contrast to his usual demeanor.

His eyes flashing Argol reared back and snarled as if to attack…and then paused, his eyes slowly widening. Something passed through those eyes that Lestrad couldn't put his finger on, something that almost seemed like…uncertainty?

Slowly, very slowly, Argol closed his mouth and leaned in once more; turning so he could regard them better with one eye. "And what, pray tell, would you have in mind?"

Now to be fair, Voltaire looked almost as surprised as Lestrad that had actually worked, but to his credit he quickly recovered and resumed projecting an air of unflappable confidence (thought it didn't hurt how his coat was long enough to hide the slight wobble in his knees).

"Oh I think you know. A certain card game, quite popular these days. Based on ancient Egyptian Steles and instrumental in everything from world politics to quantum physics to supposedly the foundation of the universe itself? Ringing any bells?"

Argol's eye blinked before he gave a rather unnerving chuckle, which showed off far too many of his enormous fangs then either man would have preferred to see that close up. "Duel Monsters, it always comes back to it doesn't it?"

Drawing himself up to his full height Argol looked down the span of his reptilian snout at Voltaire his eyes narrowing. "A Darkness game then?"

"Winner takes all,"

"Even the loser's life?"

"If it comes to that,"

Argol seemed to mull this over for a few more seconds before he gave a rather brief nod. "Very well, if nothing else it will be a nice change of pace to have to work for my meal-"

He would have said more, but at that moment inspector Lestrad, who had been trying to restrain himself to the utmost limits of his ability to do so, finally and quite visibly cracked.

"_WAIT ONE BLOODY MINUTE!"_

Both Cryptodon and Shadowchaser turned as one to regard the inspector with surprise, as if in the midst of their little back and forth either or both of them had briefly forgotten he was even there.

"You," Lestrad said pointing a finger up at Argol and wagging it a few times. "You know how to play Duel Monsters. You, a primordial sea-born leviathan straight out of Peter Benchley's nightmares, know how to play a _children's card game?_" His expression was as incredulous as his tone of voice.

Exchanging another look with Voltaire, the serpent simply nodded looking rather puzzled. "Is there a problem with that?"

The inspector's face turned a variety of colors before he made a sound like a horse blowing a raspberry. _"_Do I have a problem wi-_where the HELL do I start?!"_

"I mean, do they have Duel Disks in your size? Do you have to keep checking the ban lists to make sure your deck's tournament legal? There are a few questions I can't help but ask assuming any of this is supposed to make some kind of sense!"

"Oh, and here's a slight wrinkle to consider, how do you hold your cards hmm, in your _FLIPPERS?!"_

"Well it worked for Seto Kaiba's ex accountant when he masqueraded as a penguin to hijack the body of a teenage girl," Voltaire added, probably under the impression this little tidbit was helping his case, which judging by the look the inspector gave him, was sadly no.

"Um, I'd say it makes sense in context but it really doesn't."

By now Lestrad looked like he was going to have a complete breakdown. Taking pity on his companion, Voltaire patted the inspector's shoulder. "It doesn't have to make sense, so long as it saves lives, in this case both of ours. So long as you keep telling yourself that, it gets a lot easier to accept after a while, believe me."

After one last attempt to rally, Lestrad seemed to finally give up and sat down on a rock, grumbling to himself and rubbing his temples. Giving him one last bemused look, Voltaire adjusted his hat and flung his arm out to the side, his duel disk whirring to life.

"Well then, let's begin," As he did once before, Voltaire's eyes flashed behind his glasses as he slammed his hands palms down onto the ground, darkness flowing out of them and lashing out in all directions. Rather than seal the two combatants away in a dome, this time the shadows manifested as a thick miasma, drifting around them like wisps of black mist.

"I, Voltaire Amore, challenge you to a Darkness Game under my authority as Shadowchaser, Knight Errant as granted by the Queen of England, and on behalf of the citizens of Gallowmere, does the challenged accept?"

Baring his teeth Argol gave a rumbling growl as the shadows around him seemed to sink into the water, which frothed and bubbled as five undulating globs of black water rose up. Then, with an exertion of frigid air, each mass of water suddenly froze solid, forming the enormous outline of a card.

"I Argol, accept the challenge and do swear to abide by its laws by the authority of Dagon, as a representative of the Abyss and, ugh, acting on behalf of the House Palethorn, and bind myself to the results of this challenge now and forever."

Giving a nod Voltaire snapped the top five cards from his deck, fanning them out as both man and beast exclaimed as one.

"_LET'S DUEL!"_

VOLTAIRE: 8000 LP ARGOL: 8000 LP

For a few tense seconds neither combatant made a move, simply staring across the field at one another in silence as though slowly sizing their opponents up. Finally Argol inclined his head very slightly towards the Shadowchaser with a curve of his long neck. "The first move is yours human,"

"Much obliged," Voltaire said drawing the top card from his deck, held it up to see it. The rather dignified way he had been holding himself since initiating the Darkness Game faltered as, behind his glasses, his eyes widened almost comically in surprise.

Noticing the looks Argol and Lestrad were giving him, he shook his head as if in a daze. "Sorry, lost focus for a moment," He muttered before taking two cards from his hand and, after giving them a second almost uncertain glance, setting them in a classic T-shaped formation. "Two set cards and that's all for now."

'_Probably either Lady in Wight or Pyramid Turtle,' _Lestrad thought watching from the sidelines as a sixth card appeared in front of Argol. _'Voltaire wouldn't bother using a Skull Servant or Wight to defend when it's easier to simply mill them from his deck. Still, why did he react that way when he saw his opening hand?'_

"I should mention there was at least one other reason I agreed to face you in this manner human," Argol said as a card flipped around and revealed itself to be a field spell. "After spending so many centuries down here I'd gladly accept a change of scenery. I play Dark Abyss!"

For a moment nothing seemed to happen, and then Voltaire was alarmed to feel a cold dampness cover his feet. Looking down his eyes widened as the water level of the lake was beginning to rise and fill the chamber at a terrifying speed, already to his waist by the time he had realized what was happening.

"Voltaire! The bastard's trying to drown us!" The inspector shouted as he struggled to stay afloat even as his feet left the ground.

Voltaire meanwhile, simply stared hard at Argol whose enormous mouth slowly twisted into a grin as the dark water had all but swallowed them all whole. "Deep breaths now…" He hissed, and then the darkness took them.

_(Elsewhere in Palethorn's castle) _

Palethorn slowly strode down the passageway the talons fastening his cloak to his shoulders popping and cracking with every step he took as Lawrence walked a foot behind him and to the side. "What news is there from Richie, has he finished crafting the last of the materials we need?"

"Almost sir, the souls Castiel delivered last week came just in time, Richie's research was beginning to take its toll on our supply. While one could consider his passion for his work commendable, it nonetheless involves a certain…lack of empathy, as to how much abuse his subjects can take."

Palethorn gave an audible snort at this. "Empathy is for the weak, by our very nature our kind thrives upon the deaths of others so why bother coddling the very creatures we slaughter for nourishment? I could care less as to _how _that blasted Lich fulfills his end of the bargain so long as he fulfills it!"

"Indeed, incidentally, Castiel has made a request. He would like to claim ownership of the prisoner we captured the other night in exchange for his services thus far. Shall I inform him of your agreement to this or might you have use for her as one of your," There was a pause as Lawrence gave the slightest grimace before continuing, "Pets?"

Palethorn considered this for a moment before he shook his head. "Bah! I already have the Flaversham girl. Let him amuse himself with that worthless feline. Perhaps an eternity as his plaything will teach her the error of pilfering from her superiors, as Adleg learned the hard way," He bared his teeth in a horrid grin. "Ah, I can still smell his flesh roasting like pork on a spit,"

He ran his tongue over his fangs a low hiss escaping his mouth as though the memory had triggered some voracious appetite. "Ah yes, have the Butcher begin preparing a feast. If all goes well, we'll soon have a great many mouths to feed."

"Though make sure he sets that hound aside for me, it will be my first meal in ages, and I might as well indulge myself with some-"He stopped in mid-step so abruptly Lawrence almost ran into him, staring off into the distance his entire body rigid.

"Sir?"

"Someone has initiated a Darkness Game within the castle," Palethorn said his eyes glowing brightly as he realized there was only one possible reason one of his minions would be in such a conflict. "The Shadowchaser…hmph, it's been so long since I've killed his kind I've forgotten how difficult it is to ensure such vermin truly _stay _dead."

"Send word to all of my vassals within the castle, have them equip themselves to deal with the humans in any way they must. At last I stand poised to take my revenge, the culmination of centuries of planning all for this moment, _and I will not be denied!"_

The castle itself seemed to tremble at the fury in his voice, disembodied voices crying out in fear as the walls and floor creaked and splintered as the vampire's aura intensified. But as quickly as it had surfaced Palethorn's fury passed, leaving only a cold and terrible determination.

"Let the hound of Stormbringer come. I will show him there is no power to be gained in the protection of the weak, and his screams of pain and terror shall be the symphony with which I compose my moment of triumph."

"Stirring words as always sir, shall I attend to my designated task or would you have me commit this to writing?" Lawrence said his expression as stoic and droll as a bored sphinx. Rather than dignify that with a response, the general waved him off with a brisk flick of his hand.

Once his servant had vanished he looked out the window down at the distant lights of Gallowmere. Closing his eyes, he could hear the hearts of every man, woman and child beating within the sleepy little village, each one a tempo as unique as the patterns of a snowflake.

Soon, soon he would be free of this place, and after so long, he would silence those hearts, one by one …

_(In what was once Argol's underground cavern…)_

The first thing Voltaire and Lestrad noticed as they felt the first of their senses begin to return was the pressure. With every move of their bodies it felt as though a phantom weight was bearing down on them, and if they made just one wrong move it would crush them into paste.

For miles in every direction hand there was only darkness outside of the sphere of luminescence given off by the bottle of starlight clutched in the inspector's hand. It was like being smothered in an unfathomable cold blanket of darkness, which they realized was the bottom of an ocean, the deepest depths where no natural light had penetrated in millions of years.

Worse still, was the fact that they were not alone down here in the darkness. Marine life of nightmarish size and shape squirmed, scuttled and drifted through the darkness drawn by the light, moving in and out of view along with glimpses of movement suggesting creatures of even more terrifying size lurked just beyond the light.

"T-this is a bit of a far cry from A Legendary Ocean I'd say," The inspector muttered giving a shiver from the bone deep chill, either neglecting to notice how he was able to speak (to say nothing of breathe) underwater or simply accepting it as one more oddity in an evening he was wishing more and more could be written off as a bad dream from eating month old kippers.

"This _is _A Legendary Ocean human," With a flick of his fins and tail, Argol slithered into the sphere of light his enormous form disturbingly graceful now that he was in his element. "That is to say, it is the very bottom of said ocean. To put it in perspective, you could compare Dark Abyss with the city of Lemuria as one would compare the depths of Tartarus with the peaks of Olympus. "

"But I digress; Dark Abyss grants all Fish, Aqua and Sea Serpent type monsters I control two benefits, the first of which I'll reveal by summoning Piranha Army in attack mode."

There was a sudden disturbance in the water around Voltaire as dozens of small shapes began to dart through the water all around him, some coming close enough into the light to reveal themselves as unusually large, well, Piranha, pale green with bulging eyes and mouths so full of teeth they never quite closed (800/200-1000/200)

"As you can see, my field spell grants all such monsters 200 attack points, but also another benefit which will come into play later. For now, that boost is just enough to ensure I get the most out of this next spell: Secret Pass to the Treasures!"

"Now my Piranha Army can bypass your set monster and attack you directly, _Frontline Frenzy!"_

His eyes widening Voltaire saw every one of the voracious bottom feeders turn and dart in from every direction as if by some unseen signal. The Shadowchaser screamed as they chomped and gnashed at every part of him they could sink their teeth into.

Finally the swarm seemed to have their fill and retreated, leaving Voltaire's coat and hat frayed with bite marks and several flesh wounds, leaking blood into the water around him.

'_Good grief, I don't know what's worse, Argol just landed a direct attack for two thousand points of damage on his first turn, or that Voltaire looks like he was dropped into a dumpster full of broken glass!' _Lestrad thought aghast.

Noticing the expression on his companion's face, Voltaire managed a weak smile as he groaned and straightened out his coat. "Believe it or not, that wasn't anywhere near as painful as my last piranha related experience."

"What, you fought giant mutant piranha Shadows that could walk on land?" Lestrad replied arching an eyebrow.

"Worse, I was forced to watch 'Piranha 3DD' in theaters after losing a wager with my former apprentice," He grimaced at the memory. "Compared to that this barely counts as a flesh wound, although" He blinked and patted the side of his head. "I am a little alarmed that I appear to be missing part of my right earlobe."

"Mmm, oh that is _good!_" Argol groaned happily as his tongue slid out and churned the blood tinged waters. "So warm and nourishing, a far cry from the bland bottom feeders I've forced to maintain as a diet. Perhaps the next attack will sever one of your limbs so I might partake in a nibble of flesh as well?"

"Yes well, unless you have any other move to make you'll have to wait a turn before you can try and 'nibble' anything," Voltaire said trying not to let it show how unnerving it was to watch the great beast so thoroughly enjoy the prospect of consuming him.

Looking from left to right at the three cards still facing away from Voltaire, the serpent considered his options before shaking his head. "I'm content with what I have in play for now; make your move,"

VOLTAIRE: 6000 LP ARGOL: 8000 LP

Voltaire drew a fifth card and gave his hand another long look, the ghost of hesitation still lingering in his expression. _'Oh Annabelle, I appreciate the sentiment, but I just hope I can remember how your deck works, I was never as good as you with this particular strategy.' _"I summon Cartoonist in attack mode,"

Both Lestrad and Argol blinked in surprise hearing this, and were likely even more surprised when Voltaire's monster actually appeared. It was a wiry, slightly disheveled young man sitting at a desk which floated a few inches off the ground. A pile of blank paper and a cup full of pencils somehow remained fixed to the surface, and when the man looked up they could see the gleam of rampant imagination shine within his eyes (600/2100).

"I know it might seem an odd move, but perhaps this next one will shed some light on things," Voltaire took another card from his hand and placed it on the field, his set monster (briefly revealed to be Sangan) vanishing as the Cartoonist seemed to get a brainstorm, grabbing a pencil and some paper and scribbling away.

From the paper came a pair of enormous talons that braced themselves on either side of the desk, as with a mad giggle, a cartoonish parody of the infamous Summoned Skull pulled itself free (2500/1200).

The moment the strange monster appeared, something like nostalgia came over Voltaire's face, giving a smile as the strange cartoon demon looked back at him with an expression of pure delight, like old friends running into each other for the first time in years.

Lestrad's jaw hit the ground like a lead safe. "That…that's…_Toon Summoned Skull?! _What the devil is _that _doing in a Skull Servant deck?"

"More to the point, how could you have summoned a Class A Toon without the presence of Toon World human?!" Argol growled his eyes narrowing in suspicion at what seemed an illegal move.

Voltaire gave a chuckle as he searched his deck for a monster by Sangan's effect. "I'll answer the inspector first if you don't mind Argol. You see this _isn't _my Skull Servant deck; rather it's a completely different strategy that was used by someone…very close to me."

"Second, the Cartoonist is the one who draws and breathes life into each and every Toon, so as long as he's face up on the field he's treated as Toon World. In fact you might say that he _is _Toon World. So no foul play here gentleman, this deck just plays by a different set of rules."

"Speaking of changing the rules, while Class A Toons are normally forbidden from attacking the turn they are summoned, my facedown card, Pyro Clock of Destiny, allows me to bypass any effect of a monster that would prevent it's attack this turn by moving the count forward to the _next_!"

Behind the cartoonish demon (who had dozed off while standing upright during Voltaire's exposition) an ancient clock with a single hand carved out of stone appeared the hand slowly spinning until it hit midnight. There was a sudden flare of hellish red light as somewhere off in the distance an underwater volcano went off briefly revealing a menagerie of terrifying marine life prowling around where the duel was taking place, now fleeing in every direction.

The violent shaking of the ground jolted Toon Summoned Skull from his nap flailing his arms comically in a panic. Blushing at being caught napping on the job, he quickly removed the nightcap from his horned head and tried to look intimidating as Voltaire considered his options.

'_If I went for a direct attack I'd tie Argol's life points with my own, but even though Dark Abyss doesn't seem to have the same level downgrade as A Legendary Ocean, that power boost would be enough to make most single tribute monsters in that set strong enough to destroy Toon Summoned Skull,'_

"Toon Summoned Skull, attack Piranha Army…but don't use any lightning or you'll end up frying us too!" Voltaire quickly added realizing having the demon use a Summon Lightning Shot while underwater might not be the brightest idea.

Giving a slight pout Toon Summoned Skull improvised and brandished his talons before spinning like a top, creating an underwater twister that began to pull the piranha into range if his claws where they were sliced into so much sushi.

But even as the whirlpool faded and the cartoon demon stumbled to a stop his eyes swirling, a few stragglers of the army seemed to have survived, and were now busily feeding upon the remains of their companions in a frenzy.

"Now you see the second benefit of Dark Abyss, it allows one of my Fish, Sea Serpent or Aqua type monsters to survive being destroyed once per turn," Argol said giving a toothy smirk as the remnants of the Piranha Army continued to feed upon the dead and dying members of their swarm.

'_Ugh, this is what I get for trying to be 'rational',' _Voltaire thought rolling his eyes before taking one of the four remaining cards and setting it behind his monsters. "Very well, back to you then Argol,"

VOLTAIRE: 5500 LP ARGOL: 6500 LP

A fourth card added itself to the three turned towards the serpent which was quickly flipped around and revealed to be a spell card. "I use Big Wave Small Wave to destroy Piranha Army in order to special summon another Water monster from my hand,"

The ground shook beneath them as a fissure split open the displacement of water pulling the last of the Piranha Army deep into the depths, followed by several sickening popping sounds as the pressure crushed the bottom feeders into paste.

Then, with a low haunting groan, an enormous fish drifted into the light with skin the texture of weathered granite and teeth like stalagmites, its size nearly equal to Argol's (2800/2200-3000/2200). "Behold the lord of the deep, Superancient Deepsea King Coelacanth."

Voltaire grimaced already knowing what was coming next. Just as he predicted, Argol discarded one of the remaining two cards in his hand as the great undersea ruler let out another eerie groan, four shapes breaking off from those surrounding the nimbus of light and appearing alongside it.

One was a Goblin Shark with a skull for a face and glowing yellow eyes (1700/600-1900/600), one was a humanoid creature with the head of a mollusk and writhing tentacles (2300/2000-2500/2000), another seemed to be a strange hybrid of a manta ray and a plesiosaur not unlike Argol (1500/800-1700/800), and the last was a large Anglerfish with a long wispy beard (1500/1600-1700/1600).

"Abyssal Kingshark, Morkoth, Phantom Dragonray Bronto, and Unshaven Angler, nasty little lineup you've got there Argol. Still considering they can't attack or use their abilities when summoned by his majesty," Voltaire jerked his head towards Coelacanth. "There isn't much they can do right now except look intimidating."

"With three thousand attack points to his name and your Cartoonist in attack mode I don't _need _them to do anything else," Argol hissed as the great fish began to swim towards the cartoonist. "If your monster is removed from the field Toon Summoned Skull will perish as well!"

Just as the Deepsea King lunged to chomp down on the Cartoonist (who was still rooted to his seat even with Toon Summoned Skull frantically trying to pry him off with a crowbar) three robed priests appeared and raised their staves a wall of shimmering light deflecting the fish off it.

"Points for figuring out the weakness of my monster's effect Argol," Voltaire said giving a small smile as his Toon Summoned Skull slumped over and exhaled in relief, even as the Cartoonist sighed and crumpled up the paper and tossed it in a waste basket. "Unfortunately for you, I had already taken steps to protect both my monsters with Waboku."

The serpent merely grunted. "Slippery little morsel…fine, My final move this turn will be to play Boon of the Deepsea King, on the end phase of the turn this card is played, I can draw one card for every monster special summoned by the effect of a level seven or higher Fish type monster,"

The spell card flipped around and glowed before four new cards appeared in front of Argol, who looked them over and seemed to regain his earlier grin obviously pleased with what he had drawn. "Make the most of your next turn human, because as soon as my turn comes around once more, you're as good as lunch,"

"Actually, given it was well past midnight last time I checked, wouldn't the proper term be breakfast? Well unless you're the type who fancies the occasional midnight snack," Voltaire mused scratching his chin with a finger before noticing the way Argol's eyes narrowed and giving a nervous chuckle. "Ah-heh, my apologies, my mind tends to wander at the strangest times,"

'_He says that like he expects it to come back at some point,' _Lestrad thought watching Voltaire draw a card giving him four in total. _'Still he's not doing too badly with this deck. Among monsters with the ability to inflict direct attacks on the player, Toons boast the most raw power, but only so long as Toon World is in play, or in this case The Cartoonist.'_

"I activate the second effect of Cartoonist," Voltaire announced discarding a card from his hand as the artist began to draw once more. "By discarding a card I can move any card with the word 'Toon' in it from my deck to my hand," This time the paper the artist was drawing on glowed as it shrank and became a card, which the young man offered to Voltaire looking rather pleased this time with his work.

Taking it and tipping his hat in appreciation, Voltaire took a card from his hand and slapped it onto his disk. "Next I'll summon Toon Masked Sorcerer to the field," An ominous heavy breathing began to emanate from seemingly every direction, bringing to mind what had made a certain science fiction villain so intimidating…

Before a small shape swam up alongside Voltaire and it turned out the one _making _the breathing, was a small creature with shock red hair and an iron mask sculpted into a silly expression. The ominous rasping was coming from the scuba gear he was wearing, his traditional robes replaced by garish Bermuda swim trunks (900/1400).

"Then I play the card I got from the effect of the Cartoonist, Toon Bank!" Voltaire played a continuous spell card and there was the sound of a cash register opening up as a shower of gold coins fell over Voltaire's side of the field. Both Toon Masked Sorcerer and Toon Summoned Skull linked arms and began to dance in circles in glee.

"But why explain this card's effect, when I can show you instead? Toon Summoned Skull attack directly!" This time, the cartoon demon rummaged through his pocket (which was a surprise to everyone considering he didn't even have _pants) _before pulling out a wind up duck. With surprising dexterity for someone whose hands mainly consisted of giant talons, the Toon wound up the key on the back of the duck and let it go.

The little toy zipped through the water propelled by flimsy paddles and went around Coelacanth and the other fish before swimming right up to a bemused Argol, who started to say something derisive before the duck went off with an explosion almost equal in force to a depth charge.

The serpent was left in a daze his face blackened from the explosion, shaking his head to try and get the ringing out of his ears before giving his opponent a death glare. "I'm really starting to hate you, you know_._"

"You'd be surprised how many times I've heard that while in this line of work," Voltaire said as his duel disk started beeping. "But moving right along, each time one of my Toon monsters inflicts battle damage, Toon Bank allows me to draw one card. A spectacular way to capitalize on their abilities wouldn't you say?"

Snapping the top card off his deck, Voltaire gave it a glance and then placed set two facedown cards, one on either side of where Toon Bank was on his back row leaving him with one card left. "That's all for now Argol, if you want to try and get back at me for the way the duel's been going this is the perfect opportunity." Already the Shadowchaser could feel his confidence returning as he began to get back into the ebb and flow of how this deck worked.

VOLTAIRE: 5000 LP ARGOL: 4000 LP

"Alright you've had your fun human," Argol hissed as a fifth card appeared in front of him. One of Argol's other cards flipped around revealing it to be Polymerization, Abyssal Kingshark and Commander Kraken slowly being drawn into the vortex. "But now it's time to get serious. Through the fusion of Abyssal Kingshark and one Dark Type fish monster, I summon Deep Sea Devil!"

The first indicator that something was wrong was how suddenly every single creature prowling around the hemisphere of starlight vanished into the darkness as quick as a flash. Then they saw something approach giving off its own faint light, a chill running down the spines of both men.

It was a huge skull, fixed in a silent scream, drifting towards them out of the darkness glowing from some strange emerald bioluminescence. Then as the disembodied skull drifted towards the light, they saw the true horror was what the skull was _attached _to.

It was a shark, but describing it as 'just' a shark would do about as much credit as describing a Stradivarius as 'just' a fiddle. This was what the ancient gods of the sea dreamt of in their nightmares, a titan predator whose sleek jet black form dwarfed both Argol and Coelacanth alike in sheer size.

It had no eyes, but a mouth that was closed tight in ghastly rictus grin composed of hundreds, if not thousands of teeth each the size of a school bus. The luminous skull was actually a bony faceplate, ensuring that the screaming skull would be the last thing its prey would ever see. It made no sound, but instead simply drifted over the field, circling, ever circling, and waiting for the chance to feed (3000/2600-3200/2600).

For a moment Voltaire and Lestrad simply stared up at it, slack jawed and bug eyed, before finally the Shadowchaser managed to regain the use of his voice, albeit with a slight squeak to it.

"Inspector Lestrad, may I ask you something?"

"Yes?"

"Did the water just get a little warmer where you are?"

"…Yes,"

"Good I wasn't sure if it was just me,"

Argol gave a cackle, though the remaining three monsters on his field seemed far less relaxed in the presence of the nightmarish marine predator swimming overhead. "Magnificent isn't it? The strongest Fish type monster in the entire game and its special abilities are no less overwhelming."

"You see as long as Deep Sea Devil is in play, all Fish type monsters I control not only gain the ability to inflict trample damage, but they become immune to destruction by non-targeting effects!

"Then to cut off your options even further, I equip Super Ancient Deep Sea King Coelacanth with Metalsilver Armor." The Coelacanth's scales suddenly gleamed as rows of silver spikes began to jut out all over it.

'_Well this just went from bad to worse in a hurry,' _Voltaire thought, his confidence wavering as quickly as it had come as he realized the setup Argol had just put together. _'As long as Metalsilver is in play, Coelacanth is the only viable target for effects, locking down my targeting effects so long as he has monsters he's willing to sacrifice.' _

"So, still think I've gotten rusty as a predator? I've all but sealed off your spells and traps, you can no longer protect your life points by hiding in defense mode, and my monsters are protected threefold from anything you might try to spring on me."

"But I think that's enough gloating, Deep Sea Devil, attack the Cartoonist, _Gateway to a Silent Hell!_" The great shark's attack was as unsubtle as it was terrifying: it slowly opened its jaws the displacement of water rushing into its cavernous gullet acting like an underwater riptide.

Everything in front of Deep Sea Devil began to be dragged into the depths of its gullet, including many of the creatures circling around the playing field, thrashing in terror as they tried to escape only to be carved to ribbons and still twitching chunks as they passed through the beast's rows of teeth, all without making so much as a sound. Truly it lived up to the name of its attack.

"Oh no you don't, reverse combo activate! Astral Barrier, Spirit Barrier!" Both of Voltaire's facedown cards activated, each one producing a torrent of wailing spirits that churned around the Shadowchaser. Instead of the Cartoonist, these specters were sucked into the Devil's jaws and no matter how savagely it tried to chew its way through them, they would always regenerate none the worse for wear.

Argol growled in mounting frustration recognizing that another chance to crush Voltaire had slipped out of his grasp, however noticing a card in his hand seemed to quickly calm him down.

"Very well, seeing as attacking with Coelacanth would be pointless, move onto my second Main Phase and summon Metabo Shark in attack mode."

Another shark, though far less frightening then Deep Sea Devil, emerged from the creatures still circling the arena. Oddly corpulent in shape, it's most notable features were two pairs of eyes, one above the other, and several piercing linking to each other by chains attached to its fins and underbelly (1800/500-2000/500).

"By normal summoning it, Metabo Shark lets me take two Fish monsters in my graveyard and shuffle them back into my deck," Argol quickly explained, Morkoth and Abyssal Kingshark's cards appearing briefly before dissolving into the water.

"Finally, I'll set one card face down and end my turn," The serpent said as one of his remaining two cards vanished and then appeared behind Deep Sea Devil.

Drawing a second card Voltaire considered his options. "I discard another card to use the Cartoonist's effect," His took one of his cards and sent it to the graveyard as the artist scribbled out another card and handed it to Voltaire, who took it with a nod before thrusting his hand towards Argol.

"Toon Summoned Skull, attack Argol directly!" Even as Voltaire's life points dipped to 4500 to pay for its attack, the cartoon demon cackled and pulled out an oversized cream pie, hefting it back and hurling it at Argol's face…only to squawk in surprise as it splattered against an unseen barrier in a burst of crust and filling.

"I may not be able to inflict battle damage with your current setup, but _effect _damage is a far different story!" Argol hissed as his facedown card rose up. "Poseidon's Wave negates an attack and inflicts eight hundred points of damage for every Fish, Sea Serpent or Aqua monster I control!"

The eyes of Argol's monsters (save Deep Sea Devil for obvious reasons) suddenly began to glow a pale frigid blue, an aura of the same color surrounding Voltaire who screamed and collapsed in pain. Cursing Lestrad made a move to go to him before Voltaire held up a hand to stop him, the other clutching his chest as he gasped.

"Don't…don't come any closer!" He groaned hunching over on himself as the pressure from the ocean seemed to have amplified by the effect of Argol's trap card. The runes on his coat started glowing with alarming intensity as it felt like he was about to be crushed like a tin can in a trash compactor. "If you try and intervene…the duel will end…in a forfeit…and then we're _both _finished…I'll…be…fine!"

Lestrad's expression conveyed the terrible struggle taking place between his attempt to be reasonable and his concern for the man that, regardless of which side of the law he might be on, had risked his life to save him without hesitation. Finally he gave a nod of consent and remained where he was.

"Brave words, but your Life Points tells a very different story human," Argol said his eyes glinting in anticipation of what seemed to be his inevitable triumph.

"I still…have Toon Masked Sorcerer, and it's still…my battle phase!" Voltaire wheezed out looking up with only one eye open as the aforementioned Toon's eyes burned with anger behind the goggles of his snorkel. Raising his hands he began to create a ball of magical energy that grew…and grew…and grew until it was almost five times his size!

The sorcerer hurled the spell at Argol, but as it came closer to the serpent it began to peter out, shrinking rapidly in size until what finally glanced against his scaly hide was little bigger than a basketball leaving not so much as a mark.

'_I guess even getting fired up on righteous anger doesn't always work when you've only got nine hundred attack points to your name,' _Lestrad thought sweat dropping despite the circumstances as the Toon Masked Sorcerer slumped his shoulders and sighed, getting patted sympathetically on the shoulder by the Toon Summoned Skull.

Drawing two cards thanks to the combined effects of Toon Masked Sorcerer and Toon Bank, Voltaire gathered up the other two cards he had dropped when Argol's trap had taken effect and looked over what he had. "I'll end my turn by…setting one card facedown." He said as he managed to get back on his feet, albeit not without some difficulty.

VOLTAIRE: 500 LP ARGOL: 3100 LP

Argol wasted no time drawing his next card, the sight of his prey so close to defeat making him all but drool in anticipation. Seeing what he had drawn his eyes gleamed even brighter as he quickly set it behind his Deep Sea Devil and inclined for Voltaire to take his turn.

As soon as Voltaire drew his next card Argol activated the card he had just set. "I activate Fish Depth Charge!"

Lestrad's heart leapt into his throat and Voltaire's jaw clenched.

"Judging by your reactions I'd say you're familiar with how this trap works, I sacrifice one Fish type monster I control and in exchange I can destroy one of your cards on the field!" Phantom Dragonray vanished as several large dark shapes drifted down, revealed to be depth charges, one hovering near each of Voltaire's cards ready to explode at Argol's command.

"And now I'll destroy you're…" Argol suddenly stopped his smug expression slowly changing to one of uncertainty. He looked at each card on Voltaire's field, his gaze lingering the longest on the Shadowchaser's facedown card.

Despite still recovering from the effect of Argol's trap, Voltaire managed a small smile. "Not as simple as it seems is it?"

"Of course it's simple! If I destroy either half of your Astral/Spirit Barrier combo I'll be able to tear through your monsters and the rest of your life points!" Argol snarled, but with a lot less bravado then he had earlier.

"True, but there's a variable in the equation you can't ignore can you? My facedown card," Voltaire said gesturing to it with a hand. "I'm well aware of the weaknesses of my strategy; therefore wouldn't it be logical to assume I've prepared some measure of defense?"

'_A measure of defense, but what could it be? He didn't use his set card when I activated Fish Depth Charge, so it couldn't be something like Dark Bribe…Imperial Custom perhaps?' _Argol thought his eyes narrowing.

"But then again, I've always found logic to be a bit overrated, so who's to say my facedown card does _anything? _It could simply be a bluff, or a card which I fail to meet the criteria to activate. But here's the problem Argol: _can you afford to take that chance?_"

The serpent's eyes widened realizing he was between a rock and a hard place. _'He's right, if I waste my trap's effect on his face down card and it turns out to be a bluff, I'll still be locked down by his traps and he'll only need to increase his life points by a hundred or more to attack with both monsters. But if it's _not _a bluff, I could walk right into something my lockdown can't negate like Dimensional Wall.'_

Seeing the expression on his opponent's face, Voltaire's smile widened as he recited something from memory. "'The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear. And the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown'."

Argol's eyes blazed. "If I fear anything it certainly won't be the likes of you or your cards! Besides, in case you've forgotten there's a way to deal with your setup that doesn't even involve your back row, I use the effect of Fish Depth Charge to destroy The Cartoonist!"

Said artist was so engorged in his work he didn't even seem to notice the depth charge floating next to his head glowing, Toon Summoned Skull and Toon Masked Sorcerer exchanging looks of panic right before their creator exploded in a burst of scrap paper and splintered wood.

"And without The Cartoonist to serve as a replacement for Toon World, neither of your remaining monsters can survive!" Argol cackled as both Toons burst as well. What happened next was a bit…odd. Translucent winged images of both Toons (now dressed in tunics, and sporting halos) began to rise up each playing a harp.

Then Toon Summoned Skull blinked as though suddenly remembering something and floated back down. He made a quick costume change, this time into a red devil outfit and holding a pitch fork, and called up an express elevator, waving Voltaire goodbye before he stepped into it and it descended in a belch of flames.

"I chain the destruction of the Cartoonist with my facedown card, Destruction Trigger!" Voltaire countered even as Argol drew a third card thanks to the second half of Fish Depth Charge's effect. "When a monster I control is destroyed by a card effect, you lose the top five cards from your deck!"

The serpent hissed as five cards appeared in front of him and then vanished like mist. Combined with all the drawing and special summons he had been making, this left Argol with at most eighteen cards remaining in his deck.

"It doesn't matter, without a monster on your field, your Barrier setup is useless," Argol said his sneer quickly returning. "And unless you drew another copy of The Cartoonist, your life points are too low to play Toon World, depriving you of most of the monsters in your deck."

Rather than answer, Voltaire looked at the cards in his hand for a way out, only to have his hat falling over his eyes. "…I…end my turn,"

Anything Lestrad might have tried to say at that moment was drowned out by the serpent's roar of triumph as a fourth card appeared in front of him. "And so it ends! You fought well human, I won't deny that, but now this game is over, and it's time for you to _DIE!" _

Time seemed to slow almost to a crawl as the titan marine predator swam towards the Shadowchaser its jaws stretching wide as if to consume both Voltaire and most of the sea floor he was standing on in one savage chomp. Even as Lestrad sent his body into motion bellowing his companion's name, he knew he'd never make it in time, the Deep Sea Devil casting Voltaire in its shadow as it descended like an angel of death.

Then suddenly, Voltaire smiled and whispered a single word.

'_Gotcha,'_

With lightning speed he slapped a card form his hand onto his disk as a strange creature appeared in front of Voltaire. It was shaped like a fiendish compass of some kind chiming an impossibly loud note the reverberations of which Deep Sea Devil slammed into and reeled back from with a roar of pain. Argol's own roar of pain and anger followed closely behind.

"And _that, _gentleman," Voltaire crowed as he looked up his eyes suddenly blazing with manic energy. "Is what I call a bluff! Oh you came close Argol, you really did you clever old snake. But I wrote the _book _on being clever, hell I wrote the _trilogy_ so don't think one measly little trap is going to cost me the duel anytime soon!"

"Damn it man you nearly gave me a heart attack!" Lestrad growled clutching his chest with one hand and trying to get his heart to stop pounding in his ribcage. "At this rate these theatrics are going to kill _me _before any of these attacks kill _you!_"

"Sorry inspector, I would have tried to give you some sort of signal if I had thought of it at the time," Voltaire chuckled rubbing the back of his head before turning to his opponent.

"I knew you'd see through my little head games and go for what seemed at the time to be the best option, namely destroying The Cartoonist and clearing my field leaving my Barrier combo completely useless _but! _But-but-but-but, the truth is even _that _was part of my plan as well, as once my field was clear I could summon Battle Fader from my hand, ending the battle phase as well as reactivating my setup."

"Psychological warfare boys and girls, it's half the game in a nutshell and if there's one thing I'm good at, it's messing with people's heads!" Voltaire said tapping the side of his head with a finger and grinning like a complete fool. "Now I believe it was still your turn?"

Argol's head lowered until he and Voltaire were eye to eye, his expression one of incredible loathing. For a moment it almost looked like the Cryptodon was going to simply lunge out and bite Voltaire in half.

Then Argol's rage seemed to fade a little as his expression lessened into a miserable scowl. "You know if I wasn't so annoyed at being stuck down here in the first place, I might almost enjoy dealing with such elusive prey." He grumbled.

Hearing this Voltaire's expression turned a bit more serious. "My sympathies for your predicament Argol, but the fault for living in such neglect lies neither with me or Lestrad. Rather it's with the man who would proclaim himself your master. Believe me, under different circumstances I would take far greater joy in facing someone of your caliber, but as it stands I cannot afford to lose."

For just a moment Argol looked completely caught off guard by this kind of sentiment. Then he snarled and shook his head. "Bah! I end my turn, but know this; the advantage remains with me and you can't avoid my attacks forever!"

"You know something Argol? You're absolutely right," Voltaire said drawing a fourth card. "After all, you don't seem like someone who would fall for the same trick twice and those eyesores of yours could still do me in if given the chance, so what say we have an old fashioned fish fry!"

"Do your worst human!" Argol snarled.

Voltaire clucked his tongue his eyes gleaming dangerously. "Oh Argol, if there's one thing you should _never _do, it's dare a madman to do his worst. But for my next trick I'm going to need a few more cards, so let's take Spell-book Inside the Pot for a spin!"

The serpent gave Voltaire an odd look, but begrudgingly drew three cards while his opponent did the same. "Next, I play Mystical Space Typhoon and chain it with Emergency Provisions to destroy Dark Abyss, dispose of my entire back row, and gain 1000 Life points for each one."

What happened next was quite impressive. As Voltaire's spells and traps disappeared an enormous maelstrom formed in the center of the arena, seeming to draw the entire pitch black ocean into its depths, their surroundings slowly returning to the underwater lake. Now submerged within the lake, the attack points of all of Argol's monsters fell even as Voltaire's life points skyrocketed.

"Then I play Pot of Avarice, and before anyone asks I discarded a Toon Gemini Elf earlier when I used the Cartoonist to search for Toon Bank so I have just enough monsters in my graveyard to use it." With a demented giggle, the effeminate pink pot appeared as Voltaire took the aforementioned monster, Toon Masked Sorcerer, Toon Summoned Skull, and The Cartoonist and shuffled them into his deck drawing twice for a grand total of five cards in his hand.

"You may have increased your life points and destroyed Dark Abyss, but you dismantled the only thing keeping my monsters at bay you fool!" Argol said with a sneer. "My Deep Sea Devil and Coelacanth will rip every last one of those extra points from you with their teeth on my next turn!"

'_Especially since his spell gave me access to Hyper-Ancient Shark Megalodon,_' the serpent thought looking at the powerful monster in his hand. _'Combined with Deep Sea Devil's ability and Coelacanth still equipped with Metalsilver Armor, my three leviathans will be all but invincible!' _

"But I'm just getting started! Next I play that old classic, Toon World!" Even as his life points ticked down an enormous book appeared in front of him. It slowly opened and then with a shower of confetti and a blast of horns an enormous medieval castle sprang up adorned with burning braziers and brightly colored banners.

Then, looking down at one of the remaining cards in his hand, Voltaire gave a small smile and quickly slapped it onto his tray. "I sacrifice Battle Fader to summon Toon Dark Magician Girl!"

The strange compass shaped demon vanished and with a shower of sparkles a new form slowly appeared in its place. At first glance it resembled the King of Games' famous Spellcaster, the Dark Magician Girl, but upon closer inspection it was more like a young girl dressing up as her (2000/1700).

She opened her eyes and looked around, and when she saw Voltaire she froze. Her look of astonishment slowly turned to an expression of pure joy, her eyes growing and shimmering as a wide smile broke out over her face.

Giving a high pitched squeal of delight, the little Spellcaster flung herself at Voltaire, dropping her wand and wrapping her arms around him as she showered his face with kisses, hearts surrounding her as she cooed in adoration.

It would have been a very touching scene, except for the fact that the Toon was squeezing so tightly Voltaire was, for the third time that night, unable to breathe, frantically thumping his hand up and down on her head in what she seemed to be mistaking for a pat on the head.

"_Can'tbreathecan'tbreathecan'tbreathe!" _He croaked out as the Toon finally seemed to notice she was killing the object of her affection and squeaked, letting go and blushing furiously as she tried to keep him from falling over.

"L-lovely to see you too…just, give me a moment," Panting he wiped some of the lipstick marks off his face and glasses as took a few deep breaths. "Okay, so, long story short, dastardly villains, damsel in distress, need to save the world, you know the drill, care to help?"

Giggling Toon Dark Magician Girl nodded and straightened Voltaire's hat, giving him one more peck on the cheek and turning to face Argol and his monsters brandishing her wand and putting on a far more serious expression.

"Well, that was…amusing," Argol said slowly looking rather unsure of what had just happened. "But how is this plucky little morsel going to turn the tide?"

"By tearing your lockdown apart and clearing your front row in one fell swoop!" Voltaire countered taking two more cards from his hand. "I play Rush Recklessly, and equip Toon Dark Magician Girl with Synchro Boost, raising her level by one and granting her five hundred attack points in addition to the seven hundred given by the first spell."

The Toon closed her eyes and glowed as her attack score was raised quickly causing Argol to look a bit more concerned (2000/1700-3200/1700). Now Toon Dark Magician Girl had enough power to either reduce his life points to a mere one hundred or destroy Deep Sea Devil or Coelacanth (he doubted Voltaire would have powered her up just to destroy Unshaven Angler).

Then Voltaire turned over the last card in his hand for Argol to see, and his eyes bulged in recognition. "That's Diffusion Wave Motion!"

"Then you know that now with the payment of a mere thousand life points, Toon Dark Magician Girl now becomes able to attack every monster on your side of the field!"

With a yell Toon Dark Magician Girl wound up with her wand in both hands and swung it like a baseball bat, a sickle of burning magical energy sweeping towards the surface of the lake. Realizing what was about to happen, Argol hurled himself upon the shore just as the sickle made contact with the water.

An enormous column of searing hot steam blasted up from the lake followed by three unearthly roars of pain as all three of Argol's monsters were cooked alive in the now boiling water, their blistered husks slowly sinking from view…

_Only for Deep Sea Devil, half of its skin burnt away revealing charred muscle and gristle, to burst up from the still boiling depths as if determined to drag the young girl down to hell with it in its final moments! _

Giving a yell Toon Dark Magician girl pointed once more with her wand and shot off a bolt of flaming magical energy into the titan's open jaw, an eruption of gore and brain matter bursting out the back of its head.

The twitching carcass flopped down a few inches away from where she was standing and after a few seconds of spasmodically opening and closing its jaws, finally sunk back into the lake for the last time the water dark with blood.

"Pity, if I had another second I could have said something clever like 'smile you son of a bitch' or 'fish and chips anyone?'," Voltaire said shrugging his shoulders.

"Ah well, a job well done is its own reward I suppose. Back to you then Argol,".

VOLTAIRE: 2500 LP ARGOL: 800 LP

By now Argol was on the verge of genuine panic. Not only did Voltaire's monster have enough power to finish him off on the Shadowchaser's next turn, but even with eight cards in his hand what monsters he had were either too weak to destroy Toon Dark Magician Girl, or required at least one tribute to make. Knowing he had little choice Argol played the one spell card he had left that might save him.

"I play Reload, shuffling my entire hand back into my deck in exchange for drawing an equal number," One by one the remaining seven cards in the serpent's possession vanished only to be replaced by another seven from what remained of his deck.

"I'm not beaten yet human, first I play Supremacy Berry to boost my life points by two thousand since yours are currently in the head," He explained as a card flipped around his score increasing by the aforementioned amount.

"Next I play the continuous spell Water Hazard. Now _because _I have no monsters in play, it allows me to special summon a level four or lower Water monster from my hand."

The bloodstained lake water suddenly began to churn as a second Piranha Army surfaced going wild with the ample feast left behind in the wake of Deep Sea Devil's death. "But it's only purpose is to be sacrificed to summon this!" The fish vanished as did the remains of Argol's slain monsters as the entire lake began to churn.

At first Voltaire thought that another creature was surfacing, a great mound of water rising up from the surface of the lake, but as it rose up in height both he and Lestrad were startled to realize that the creature _was _the lake. A massive muscled humanoid upper body quickly formed from the murky blue water, wielding a trident as large as a telephone pole, its face twisted in fury behind a beard of seaweed and burning red eyes.

"Mary mother of god…." Lestrad breathed taking a step back involuntarily. "Is that what I think it is?" Cast in the giant's shadow Voltaire nodded grimly.

"Poseidon, or at the very least an aspect of him, though in regards to the game the official title of this monster is Rage of the Ocean."

"That's right and for every denizen of the deep within my graveyard my monster gains 500 attack points, and I don't think I need to tell you how much discarding has been done during the course of this duel."

The avatar of one of the mightiest of the Olympian Gods let out a roar like a crashing wave as the presence of ten monsters in Argol's graveyard propelled it's score to frightening levels (0-4000/0).

"I'm well aware your life points would survive even if I attacked Toon Dark Magician Girl with Rage of the Ocean at its current attack power. However I have a way around that with a rare magic card called Executioner's Song."

As Argol played his next card, a strange haunting melody echoed over the field that made the hairs on Voltaire and Lestrad's neck stand up straight and made even Toon Dark Magician Girl shiver in fear. Rage on the other hand seemed to grow wild, its eyes shining with a strange light as its roar turned to a mad laugh.

"Executioner's Song can only be played on a monster whose attack score is three thousand or higher, and reduces said monster's score to a base one thousand," Argol explained as the ocean god's score dropped drastically. "But in exchange, Rage is now able to attack once this turn for every thousand attack points lost by this effect."

"That means it can attack…three times?" Lestrad said taking a step back in shock. "But wait, why do that when Toon Dark Magician Girl's still in play, unless he has a card like Fissure or Soul Taker Rage won't be able to deal any damage."

"Won't it? Perhaps you've already forgotten the combo I used in this duel with Piranha Army." Argol said looking rather smug as he revealed one of the last few cards in his hand.

"Oh hell," Was all either man could say.

"Once more I play Secret Pass to the Treasures!" Argol roared as Rage of the Sea bellowed along with him, crackling with electricity. "Now my beast, begin the onslaught, _Earth Shaker's Vengeance!"_

Toon Dark Magician attempted to block the sea god's path to her owner with a determined cry, but with a gesture of its hand, the water around her suddenly sprouted tentacles that bound around her and then froze solid, keeping her from moving.

Then, as she and Lestrad watched in horror, Voltaire screamed as Rage's trident slashed at his torso, the prongs cutting into his skin as the bolts of lightning leapt off the weapon and danced over his body causing his muscles to tense and loosen at random intervals.

He screamed even louder when the maddened god struck again with even greater savagery, until Voltaire could barely stand upright, twitching and straining to breathe. Even Argol looked unnerved by the brutality of the attack.

"Enough!" The Cryptodon snapped as the God looked back with an ugly expression. "He fought well, there's no point in prolonging this just so he can suffer, end it with your next strike."

Sneering, nonetheless Rage seemed to comply, lifting up its weapon intending to stab down onto Voltaire with one final strike. Surging with the power of lightning and water alike, the ocean god's weapon plunged down and…stopped?

Both Toon Dark Magician Girl and Lestrad had, as much as they had tried not to, looked away before the blow would have connected, so it wasn't until they heard Rage of the Ocean roar in anger that they looked once more, their eyes nearly popping in shock.

Holding the ends of the Trident, was a transparent white haired warrior clad in sinister red armor, a mask covering his face save for his mouth which was fixed in a snarl of effort. There was a moment of tension as God and Mortal attempted to overpower the other, only for the phantom to finally slam the prongs of the trident into the ground shaking the cavern.

Pulling a card from his graveyard, Voltaire slowly straightened up as the spasms left him, slipping it into his coat pocket. "Now that…was _very _close Argol, but not quite close enough. You see, this deck specializes in multiple ways to block attacks without relying on the back row, useful with a set like the Toons where the destruction of a key card can wipe out an entire field, and Necro Gardna is one such card, which I discarded the first time I used the Cartoonist's effect."

"You had that card in your graveyard all this time and you never _used it?!_" Argol sputtered confusion and disbelief twisting his serpentine features.

"Why? So I could squander such a powerful effect at the first possibility of taking a hit rather than wait until an instance like just now where I would have otherwise lost the duel? You're a powerful duelist Argol, but do you know the reason you lost?"

"You simply don't have any patience. Your deck essentially tries to restrict your opponent's options so you can hurl your strongest monsters at them over and over until they run out of Life points no matter what they might have in play. Every turn you couldn't inflict some form of damage you were getting careless, relying too much on your lockdown handle any unforeseen wrinkles, all you wanted was to win as soon as possible and under the circumstances I'm not going to pretend I wouldn't be in the same state."

"But this is a _strategy _game Argol, it's not about having our monsters butt heads like a couple of goats over a territorial dispute, it's about long term planning, intuition, knowing when and when not to make a play, or whether to take the offensive or shore up your defenses, you never even moved a monster to defense mode _once."_

"S-save your speeches human!" Argol hissed his eyes bright with fury. "Executioner's Song wears off at the end of my turn, restoring Rage of the Ocean to his full power. And with my life points bolstered by Supremacy Berry I _defy _you to summon a Toon other than Dark Magician Girl who can attack on the same turn she's summoned!"

VOLTAIRE: 500 LP ARGOL: 2800 LP

Remaining silent after this outburst, Voltaire drew from his deck, holding it up to see. There was a moment's silence and then a small smile tugged at the corner of the Shadowchaser's mouth. "I don't need another Toon to defeat you Argol, I just need to make the one I already have stronger,"

He turned the card around for Argol to see, revealing it to be Mage Power. A look of pure terror came over the serpent as Voltaire played the card, Toon Dark Magician Girl glowing brightly with an aura of pure power (2500/1700-4000/3200). "No…."

""Toon Dark Magician Girl, it's time to end this" Reaching into her hat, the spell caster pulled out a silly straw and flew towards Rage of the Ocean jamming it into his chest. Putting the other end to her lips, the Toon started to inhale, the entire deity's body suddenly quivering and shrinking, as little by little the Toon began to slurp its entire form up like a can of soda pop!

As Argol watched in a mixture of disbelief and panic, Toon Dark Magician Girl sipped up the last of Rage, her body now looking like a balloon on the verge of popping, her eyes bugging out and her limbs flailing before she pointed the straw right at the beast and-

SPLOOOOOOOOOSSSSSHHHHHHHH!

Argol roared as Toon Dark Magician Girl spat out the water she had just drank up through the straw like the world's biggest fire hose going off, knocking Argol clear off the ground and slamming him against the wall of the cavern, pinned there by a steady stream of highly pressurized water.

Finally, the Toon started to shrink down to normal size, the water ebbing as Argol slid down and collapsed in a heap with one last groan. Looking back at Voltaire, Toon Dark Magician Girl giggled and gave an affectionate mockery of a salute, winking before vanishing as he crossed the field.

VOLTAIRE: 500 LP ARGOL: 0 LP

The shadows slowly receded until they remained swirling at Voltaire's feet as he approached where Argol was still on his side. The battered Cryptodon turned his head and regarded his opponent with a look of bitter resignation.

"So I lost."

"That's generally what happens when one's life points hit zero yes, provided you aren't Yugi Mutouh."

"Hmph, I suppose it was bound to happen. The villain's faithful dragon can only cross paths with a valiant knight so many times before it ends badly for him," Lifting his head up, Argol exposed his neck. "Go on then, slay me, you'll be doing me a favor anyway."

Voltaire looked down at the Cryptodon his glasses hiding his eyes. "Is that what you think should happen? The hero defeats the dragon so his life is forfeit just because that's how the story always goes?"

"Oh save me the platitudes human," Argol growled. "Just get it over with already, at least now I have an excuse for not being able to defend myself."

Both Voltaire and Lestrad's eyes widened hearing this.

"What, you think I never considered it? What do I have to look forward to down here, bottom feeders and wasted decades spent waiting for my next morsel of carrion from that bastard? I just…" Argol's eyes seemed to dim sadly. "I just couldn't disgrace my ancestors by doing something so…cowardly. At least now," He sighed. "At least now I can say I was able to feel like a true hunter, one last time."

Voltaire's hand slowly clenched into a fist, biting his bottom lip. "Argol…you…"

"_YOU GODDAMN IDIOT!" _Voltaire's foot lashed out and connected solidly with Argol's snout as hard as he could, making the Cryptodon yelp loudly in pain.

"_YEOWCH! _What the hell was _that _for?!" Argol snarled raising himself up looking absolutely livid, only to draw back from the look of incredible fury coming from the Shadowchaser standing before him.

"So that's it then? One last hurrah before you give up and let the next self-righteous twit with a sword come and make you another notch on his belt? _That's _how you honor your ancestors, not by doing everything in your power to help bring down the man who left you down here in the first place?"

"Voltaire…" Lestrad started to say something else before Argol interrupted.

"Oh don't tell me your still on about that! I don't know how far along you humans have come since the war, but I've seen what a Grand General is capable of; you think humanity is equipped to handle something of that level of power, of brutality? You think you can stand alone before the Torture King and prevail?"

"Alone? Probably not," Voltaire admitted. "Look at me, I'm not a disciple of the gods, I don't have the blood of heroes in my veins. I can barely even order off the menu at a Thai restaurant without offending someone's mother. But who says I'm alone?"

Voltaire looked back at Lestrad his smile soft but no less passionate for it. "I have the bravest man I've ever met watching my back, who's every action thus far have proven beyond a shadow of a doubt he deserves to hold the title of an officer of the law."

Despite everything Voltaire had put him through tonight, and probably despite everything he had _yet _to put him through before they were done, this meant far more to the inspector then he could have imagined and, after a moment of trying to hide his embarrassment, he gave the other man a curt nod.

"I have the most faithful canine a man could ever ask for. One who's every bit as clever, capable, and resourceful as any member of the Shadowchasers I've ever worked with, and regardless of his heritage, someone I can regard as nothing less than a partner."

"And I have this," He held up his duel disk. "The legacy of one of the greatest artists who ever lived, a man whose life was one of loss and remorse, but also of creation and joy, a gift from someone who without I would be incomplete, alone in the shadows of my regrets."

"This deck was a reminder that I am not alone, not now, not ever, so long as I bear this mark, or walk this path. And you know something Argol? As much of a difference as these people and these things have given me, you can also make a difference, right here, right now."

"I…can?" Argol's expression was stunned, but something deep in his eyes spoke clearly that right now, he wanted, no, _needed _to hear this from someone.

"Of course you can. Life is about choice Argol, Palethorn may have made you think you no longer had any, but you do, you always have. And right now, you can make the choice to help me make sure that nobody else will ever be forced to live like this, left to wander alone in the darkness until you feel no alternative but to be every bit the monster Palethorn expects you to be."

Voltaire lowered his voice as he continued. "Because we're not here to take back some shiny trinket or some ancient weapon. We're here because right now, Palethorn has taken a young girl away from her father, and is keeping her locked up just like you. And he'll force her to be exactly what he wants her to be regardless of her hopes and ambitions, until she's as miserable as broken as you were."

"So, as victor of the Darkness Game, I charge you to make a decision here and now to decide your fate. Will you resign yourself to be a monster, and remain down here forever alone? Or will you change how this story ends, and lend the knight your aid to bring that poor girl back home?"

Argol looked away for a moment, his eyes closing to try and hide how deeply Voltaire's words had moved him. Finally, he slowly rose up with some difficulty and regarded both the Shadowchaser and the inspector. 

"Voltaire Amore…that's what you said your name was correct?"

Voltaire simply nodded his expression impassive.

After a moment of further silence, Argol bowed his head in a gesture of respect. "They say humility is the truest mark of a knight. By that accord, I would say you are more worthy of the title then any I have met in my life. This is no longer a matter of my pride as a denizen of the Abyss; this is to repay your kindness in reminding me that my story need not end here."

"Well then," Voltaire said his smile returning tenfold. "What are we waiting for? Onward and upwards! Now, I believe there was an entrance up to the castle proper you'd like to show us?"

"Wait I thought he said that passageway had been sealed off?" Lestrad butted in, still trying to figure out just what the hell had just happened.

Argol's expression seemed to turn a bit sheepish. "Well actually, I…may have suggested that to discourage you from trying too hard to escape. Some of these tunnels are a bit on the narrow side and if I got stuck in one trying to follow you, well it's not like I wasn't miserable enough already."

"…I really can't tell which one of you I want to hurt more right now."

"Really? That's rather surprising considering I didn't have much in way of a backup plan were Argol to decline either to duel or help us."

"And now I _do"_

"_BLECKH!"_

END OF CHAPTER SIX

I did it? HOLY CRAP I DID IT! I FINISHED THE FREAKING CHAPTER! *Does a delighted little jig blowing on a noisemaker*. Oh my god I cannot begin to tell you all how good it feels to finally UPDATE. Again, I want to apologize to everyone for the delay, and thank everyone again for giving me a second chance. I PROMISE the next chapter will not take so long to do really!

In any case, obviously it's been a while so I would appreciate it if anyone who decides to review try and offer as much feedback, good and bad, as you can. I'm sure you all have plenty of questions about where Voltaire got his Toon deck and just who some of the characters Palethorn mentioned are, but believe me, all will be revealed.

Speaking of Toons, to anyone surprised to have Voltaire suddenly switch strategies I'd like to make it clear that Voltaire is, first and foremost, a Wight duelist. However I switched things up this chapter for a few reasons. The first was originally I was uncertain how fresh I could keep the same deck after using it over and over in the same story, so I gave myself a break and have, with a little help from various authors, come up with several fun surprises to give the Skull Servants a few new twists.

That said, I'd love to hear from you all if any of you want to see him use this deck again, as I have yet to use the Ace card of the deck, a fan made Toon that, even if I don't use this strategy again this story, will be used by someone else later on, but that's something you'll just have to wait and see for yourself *winks*.

Now, one more thing before I move onto the preview and the custom cards. In order to save myself a bit of writing, I will no longer list every card I used that originated from the anime or manga. Most of them have been used a great deal in other fan fiction stories, so like Scarlet Weatherman and 7th Librarian, I'll mainly list either cards from other authors, or cards I made myself. Okay that's all for my ramblings, onto cards and coming attractions!

CUSTOM CARDS BY ME

Dark Abyss

Field Spell

Image: A pitch black panoramic shot of the bottom of the ocean, illuminated just enough by the lights of various deep sea creatures to show a wide variety of nightmarish creatures of many shapes and sizes.

Text: Increase the attack of all Fish, Sea Serpent, and Aqua type monsters you control by 200. Once per turn, you can prevent one of the aforementioned monsters from being destroyed by your opponent's card (either by destruction or battle).

Boon of the Deep Sea King

Normal Spell Card

Image: The Legendary Fisherman underwater opening a chest filled with gold and jewels as a Big Whale swims overhead.

Text: You can only use one 'Boon of the Deep Sea King' per turn. One the end phase of the turn this card was played, draw one card for every Fish type special summoned by the effect of a level seven or higher Fish type monster.

Deep Sea Devil

Level 9 Dark Attribute Fish/Fusion/Effect

3000/2600

Fusion Materials: 'Abyssal Kingshark' + one Dark Attribute Fish type

Image: A massive jet black shark with no eyes, with a glowing skull plate fixed over its head set in a silent scream.

Text: This card can only be fusion summoned using the proper fusion material monsters. As long as this card is in play, Fish type monsters you control cannot be destroyed by non-targeting effects. When a Fish type monster attacks a defense position monster whose defense is lower then its attack, the difference is treated as battle damage.

CUSTOM CARDS MADE BY OTHER AUTHORS.

Cartoonist

Level 4 Earth Spellcaster/Effect

600/2100

Text: While this card is face up on the field, this card's name is also treated as 'Toon World'. While this card is face up on the field 'Toon World' cannot be destroyed. You may discard one card from your hand to add one card that has 'Toon' in its name from your deck to your hand.

Toon Bank

Continuous Spell Card

Text: Every time a 'Toon' monster inflicts damage to your opponent's life points, draw 1 card.

(The abovementioned cards were created by 7th Librarian and used with permission, all creative credit goes to him)

Morkoth

Level 4 Dark Fish/Effect

2300/2000

Text: This card cannot be normal summoned. This card cannot attack. If you take battle damage destroy this card. During your end phase while you control this face up face up card your opponent takes 800 points of damage.

(This card was created by Cyber Commander and used with his permission, all creative credit goes to him).

Executioner's Song

Normal Spell Card

Text: Select one face up monster you control whose attack score is 3000 or higher. This turn by reducing its attack score to 1000 until the end phase of your turn, it can attack once for every 1000 points removed by this effect.

(This card was created by ardee and is a rough depiction based on its use in his story 'Yu-Gi-Oh: Nightrise. All creative credit goes to him).

(Next time on Dance Macabre)

_In the bowels of Palethorn's dungeon, Voltaire and Lestrad cross paths with another prisoner who could offer invaluable aid in rescuing Alice. But Palethorn's most powerful minion has his own designs on this young lady, and not even Voltaire may be able to stand in his way without some unexpected help._

_But even then, this mysterious foe carries with him a terrifying, and all too familiar weapon in his deck that, along with a rare and horrifying strategy, may be more than a match for Voltaire and his legions of the dead._

_The war between the living and the dead is coming to a boil, and Gallowmere may soon be caught in the crossfire in chapter seven of Dance Macabre: Dark Room of Nightmare._


End file.
